


Don't Even Trip

by gingertintedglasses



Series: Mausoleum [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Badass Ladies, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Humor, Injury, Love, Slow Burn, Smut, Torture, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-02-09 03:19:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 145,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1967046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingertintedglasses/pseuds/gingertintedglasses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Plot covers Thor/Avengers/Thor 2. A warrior from Vanaheim arrives in Asgard seeking a place among the realm's forces, armed with only a sword, a smart mouth, and a massive hound. Loki quickly realizes he is unable to discount her or her ambition & decides they can be mutually beneficial to one another. Provided something as silly as sentiment does not get in either's way.  Explicit rating is for later chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Confidence Is Half The Battle

**Chapter 1 – Confidence Is Half The Battle**

_Don't even trip_  
 _Don't get too big for your britches_  
 _All these bones been jumping out of your closet_

He had never seen a dog quite so large, if it was in fact a dog and not a small horse in disguise. Though the woman was no match in height for his mother, she was still of average height for the Aesir and even then, the monstrous animal's head was just above hers.

"What is it you wish?" Odin's voice, calm and powerful, cut through the quiet. 

Unlike the other petitioners, Loki noticed, at his voice she straightened, rather than tensed, her shoulders. "Allfather, I -we- bid your leave to join Asgard's forces." There was a stifled murmur that went through those who had come to watch proceedings that day. Aside from Sif, there were no women in the service of Asgard. 

Odin ignored the murmurs. "We?" 

The woman nodded, smiling at the nuzzle the beasts name earned her. "Myself and Vidar." She touched the animal's muzzle without looking away from Odin. 

"What sort of beast is that?" Odin still hadn't bothered with her name yet. 

"A hound, my lord." She fell silent after that. 

Odin, realizing she was awaiting his judgment and would speak no more, cleared his throat. Loki smiled. Silence, in the right context, could unsettle his father. "What sort of training do you claim, and of what use is your hound?" 

"Vidar mostly tracks and hunts." She smiled. "But sometimes, when needful, he fights. I am skilled with both a blade and a bow." 

"How skilled?" The curiosity in Odin's tone brought forth a quiet hum of whispers from onlookers. 

She smiled slightly. "Who would you have me best, Allfather?" 

Loki glanced to his father, noting Thor shift in his seat on Odin's other side. His brother was clearly taking a liking to this maiden. This could be entertaining. 

A corner of Odin's mouth lifted momentarily at her phrasing before he turned his head to his second son. "Loki, would you do the lady the kindness of your sparring skills?" 

He raised an eyebrow, nodding once. Odin may have appreciated her confidence, but he clearly did not want another women among Asgard's forces. "Of course, father." He rose, holding a hand in the direction of the arena. "Shall we say one hour from now, my lady?" 

"Yes, my lord." She bowed low to Odin and his sons before swiftly straightening and turning to leave. She did not look back, and it seemed she did not need to; the great beast stalked after her without prompting. 

There was something in her bearing -a certain amount of grace- that made him think of the peoples of Alfheim, Loki decided as he strode towards his chambers to retrieve his sparring gear, but she was not so in her looks. Hopefully her hound would be watching and not participating. It seemed perfectly well-behaved, but it's sheer size was something Loki had never seen before, and he wondered where in the Nine Realms she'd found it. 

When he arrived at the practice grounds a quarter of an hour early, he found the woman was already there. She had taken off her riding cloak, dressed now in only brown trousers and a violet tunic. She had twined her long, golden-red locks not usually characteristic of the Aesir into a low bun and was idly twirling the practice sword she had been given, adjusting to it's weight and balance as she awaited her challenger and his father. Her sword, quiver and bow, and a small rucksack lay off to one side, as did her hound. He wondered what an unknown, unidentifiable shield maiden was doing in Asgard looking for a permanent place among the realm's guard. 

"My lady." Loki strode into the arena, moving his hand from his heart and motioning to the space in front of him in greeting. "My father -and likely my brother- will arrive shortly. Have you had enough time to prepare?" 

She bowed slightly. "I have, my lord. What are to be the terms of our contest?" 

Loki noticed, out of the corner of his eye, that her hound was now sitting instead of laying down, watching him carefully as Loki interacted with his master. "If you can best me, you will be permitted to join Odin's army. If I best you…" he smiled. "Well. If I best you, likely not." 

She smiled. "Do all of those in the service of Asgard go through such a trial?" 

Loki grinned briefly. "No." 

She shook her head. "Thank the gods, I would hate to think there was an entire army that could best an Odinson." 

Loki bristled internally at that. 

"No wonder it is just the Lady Sif, then. Well, and soon myself." 

Loki noticed his father and brother seat themselves near the edge of the arena. "So sure of yourself, are you?" 

At a sound from her formidable companion, she snapped her fingers and lowered her palm to the ground. The hound slid to a laying position without another noise. The woman smiled wide at Loki once the animal had settled. "Confidence is half the battle, my lord." 

Loki spun his practice sword in one hand, stepping back several paces and readying himself. He motioned her to advance upon him with his other hand. "And the other half?" 

She nodded, circling him briefly before stepping in, sword sweeping towards his right side, which Loki caught with a swift, effortless parry. "Knowledge." 

He took aim at her right side, but at the last moment shifted to strike her left. She was fast, very fast, and parried the blow. He shifted into a series of short, quick attacks, forcing her backwards. He had struck three times before, on the fourth, she blocked his sword and quickly -quicker than he, somehow- shifted her weight as she pushed his blade up out of the way, ending up behind him. He turned to face her as he brought his sword down and found the tip of hers resting under his chin. 

Even as the words _do you yield_ began to leave her mouth, Loki continued the downward motion of his arm as he pivoted backwards. She ducked under his blow. As she did so, he teleported to be behind her, a smile on his face. A smile that vanished as she straightened, her sword sweeping his weapon away and finding it's way, again, under his chin, this time pressing lightly. 

"Do you yield, my lord?" 

He ignored her question, eyes narrow. "How did you do that?" 

She smiled. "I have heard of you, Prince Loki, and how not? I did it simply: I was not expecting a fight devoid of your talents." 

He couldn't help but grin ever so slightly. He stepped back and bowed. As he straightened, he turned to his father, an arm out in his challenger's direction. "The advantage is my lady's." 

Odin raised his eyebrow; Thor was grinning fit to split his face. After a few moments thought, Odin nodded. "You may join, my lady." 

She smiled wide, though quickly schooled her features as she bowed low. "Thank you, Allfather, I am honored." 

"What is your name, my lady?" Loki had to give him credit, Thor had at least given a few moments pause to not seem so overexcited. 

She inclined her head. "Ilmr, of Vanaheim." Loki's eyes widened only momentarily. 

Thor was not quite so well versed in subtlety and could not help himself. "Lady Ilmr!" He clambered down from his seat into the arena to kiss her hand. "It is a pleasure to meet you - had we but known-" 

"-Had you known, my lord," she interrupted him, "You would not have let me try." 

At that, Loki did smile. 

Odin narrowed his gaze. "My lady, I apologize, but I must retract my blessing." 

Ilmr's face fell. "You can't!" 

Odin chuckled. "You will find, my lady, that I can. Your father would never allow-" 

"-My father has no care for a daughter with five older brothers and who does not want for needlepoint or high tea. I have come with his blessing: if I could prove myself worthy of the Allfather's army, I would be allowed to stay." She marched over to her belongings, heedless of Thor's wide eyes and Loki's well-stifled laugh at the sight of anyone but his mother cutting of his father mid-sentence. She produced a wax-sealed piece of parchment, holding it to Odin. "From my father, proof of his blessing." 

Odin took the letter dubiously, cracking the seal and reading over the contents briefly. He stared over the letter at Ilmr. She stared back unperturbed. Loki caught his brother's eye, who seemed to be thinking the same thing _would they see their father smite someone in the middle of the palace arena?_

Odin folded the letter. "And your mother?" 

Ilmr shrugged. "My mother has two other, younger, daughters. She has no need for a warrior when she has a harpist and a seer." She fell quiet after that, waiting patiently under Odin's gaze. 

Eventually, many minutes later, he nodded. Ilmr had not done much more than bat an eyelash the whole time. "Very well. You are welcome to stay, and you are welcome in Asgard's army." He held up a hand before she could bow again. "You will, however, per your father's note, continue life here as befitting of your station when not fulfilling your duties with the realm's guard." 

Loki could see her jaw clench slightly, but she smoothed her features and nodded. "As you wish, Allfather. Thank you." 

Thor beamed. He was clearly hoping to set himself up as her host, guide, and personal heater. "Father, I will be glad to show the Lady Ilmr to her chambers." 

Odin nodded. "Very well. She may take a chamber of her choosing in the Lesser Hall." He looked to Ilmr. "Welcome to Asgard." 

She smiled wide, bowing low a final time in thanks. When she straightened, she gave her thigh two short slaps. At the noise, her hound stood, straps of her bag and weapons gathered in his mouth, and padded to her side. She looked to Loki, then. "Thank you, my lord." 

Loki inclined his head. "The pleasure was mine." 

She nodded once before turning to Thor. "Lead the way, Prince Thor." 

Loki watched as his brother, Ilmr, and her hound left the arena. When they were out of sight, he looked to his father. "Do you think this is wise, father?" 

Odin glanced down to his youngest son. "If you are implying I make poor decisions, I would suggest rephrasing. But yes, I do." 

Loki sensed his father wouldn't elaborate, so he took it upon himself to retrieve his practice sword and head for his own chambers.

*****

"…Our chambers are just at the other end of this wing, in the Greater Hall. Truly, they are not much different, save for the company." Loki could hear the smile in Thor's voice as he led Ilmr around the Lesser Hall. "There are four chambers at this end - as father said, whichever you like best you may have." 

Her voice was harder to hear, as she wasn't shouting as his brother was wont to do, but when he concentrated, Loki could make it out just fine despite the background noise elsewhere in the halls behind him. "Thank you, my lord. Though I would just as soon the same apartments afforded the other soldiers." 

Thor laughed, a great booming sound. "Father would not stand for that - more importantly, neither would mother." Loki came around the corner as Thor continued, having turned to her hound. "What say you, boy? A warm bed is better than a cold floor, is it not?" 

Loki smiled inwardly seeing the animal stare straight back at Thor blankly. He took the time to speak himself. "You may want to leave conversing with animals to the elves, brother." 

Thor grinned. "Loki! Come, help me show our new guest around. She has yet to choose a room." 

Ilmr smiled wryly. "You have yet to show me any." 

Loki bit his cheek. He was enjoying her lack of interest in Odin or Thor's positions. 

Thor pushed open a door on their right, revealing a large space with a connected bath. A desk sat just inside and to the left of a balcony. A few feet away, a large bed carved from cherry wood was situated on top of a large rug made of animal pelts. Across from the door to the bath, kitty-corner, was a large, comfortable-looking chair with an ottoman and a bookshelf next to it. Two settees were also present - one on the balcony and the other facing the chair and ottoman. The high ceilings made the space light and airy. 

Ilmr nodded. "This will do just fine." 

Thor furrowed his brow. "You don't want to see the others?" 

She smiled, one shoulder lifting in a shrug. "It has everything I need - and Vidar needs. I thank you." She looked to the hound and clicked her tongue softly. Vidar strode into the room and dropped her things by the bed before taking it upon himself to sniff around their new lodgings. "He seems to like it, anyway." 

Thor smiled. "He is very well-trained, Lady Ilmr." 

Loki caught her glance before she slid her eyes to Thor. "Haven't you heard, Prince Thor? Elves are the ones who converse best with birds and beasts." 

Thor laughed while Loki tried not to grit his teeth. Thor slapped his back, nearly knocking him over. "And what sort of elf are you, my lady, who can hide her nature so?" 

"I am half-elven. My mother is elf-kind, my father Vanir. What my sisters gained in elven features, they lack in many of the elven senses." 

That's how she had done it, Loki realized. That's the only way she could have possibly been faster. That's how she'd beaten him. "You heard me." 

Ilmr glanced to Loki as he spoke for the first time since he announced his arrival. "Even so, it was almost half a moment too late. They speak of your talent, Prince Loki, but they do not do it half the justice it deserves." 

Thor broke in before Loki could speak again. "You may be the only one who will say so, my lady. None have been able to beat him in the field because of his tricks." 

She raised her eyebrows slightly. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean." She held a hand palm up in Loki's direction. "Your brother has a talent for magic and uses it to his advantage, as he should. If the stories are true, you use Mjolnir to your advantage where others do not possess a weapon of similar fortitude, do you not?" She smiled. "It is not his fault his challengers do not appropriately prepare to spar with him." 

Seeing Thor's mouth work once or twice and Loki's own small but satisfied grin, she inclined her head. "Now if you do not mind, my lords, I am going to better acquaint myself with my new quarters. Perhaps I will see you in the arena or banquet hall later on." Without waiting for a response, she turned into her chamber. 

Loki had to listen to Thor the whole way back from the Lesser Hall to the throne room where Odin had resumed hearing petitions. Listen was too strong a word, he supposed. He had to suffer Thor's background noise the whole walk back. Loki himself had been too busy thinking. 

She had voiced to Thor what he always bit his own tongue on, because it did not matter. Thor was the favored son and it would be seen as whining, not reasoning, if Loki said what Ilmr had. She had also said something he hadn't heard before from others - his talent. Most in Asgard considered it a portent of ill tidings, Loki's propensity for magic. At best, it was labeled cheating. None had called it a talent, outside of his mother. But Ilmr had called it thus twice so far. 

He took his place on Odin's left, setting his features to a mask of mild interest as proceedings continued. 

*****

"Do you think she will join us this morning, brother?" Thor had barely paused mid-bite to ask his question. Much to his older brother's chagrin, the Lady Ilmr did not make another appearance the previous day at the arena or in the banquet hall. 

"I know not." Loki skewered candied fruit as he continued. "But she does live just down the hall now, I don't doubt you'll see her eventually." 

Thor gave his brother a sidelong look. "You are in a most foul mood, for a man with a beautiful houseguest. Are you bitter about your loss yesterday?" 

"No." Loki popped a grape into his mouth. "But I do tire of your incessant chatter. You haven't stopped talking about her since she arrived." He raised an eyebrow. "One might get the wrong impression and think you're taken with her." 

"I am." Thor beamed. 

Loki tsked quietly, nodding to a dark-haired woman at a lower table. "And what would the Lady Sif think? Surely it would not be wise to pit the only two woman-warriors we have against one another in a contest for your heart." 

"Unfortunately, Prince Loki, my adversary would not have much to fight; I am afraid I do not ascribe to the art of fawning over my male counterparts as my sisters seem to." Ilmr sat down across from him, her plate piled high with all manner of fruit, meat and cheese. 

"Lady Ilmr! Good morrow." Thor made no secret of his joy at her presence. 

"Prince Thor." She turned to Loki. "Prince Loki." 

"Where is your hound this morning, my lady?" Thor was doing his best not to stare at the sheer amount of food she had in front of her and barely managed. Even Sif, who kept up with him and the Warriors Three, did not eat so much. 

"Vidar is asleep." She plucked grapes from the small bunch she had grabbed as she smiled, speaking quietly as if in confidence. "He likes to sleep in." 

Thor laughed. "He is quite large, one would imagine he needs much rest." 

"He's acts as a child would, mostly. He is still young, barely out of puppyhood, he has yet to fill out." She shrugged. "But I indulge him, as he's still growing. I will eat my fill and then bring him a plate." It was slightly terrifying to think that the animal was not done growing yet and judging from the look on Thor's face, he was thinking the same thing Loki was. 

"Do you not share your food with him?" Thor was still eyeing her plate. 

"No." She smiled, looking at Thor with a curious smile that was far too innocent to be innocent. "Why, does it seem like a great amount of food?" 

"No, my lady. I mean, well, yes, but-" Loki was going to enjoy having her around despite her haughty attitude, few people could tongue-tie his brother so. 

She stifled a laugh. "-But I know for most ladies it is an unbecoming amount of food. Fortunately, I will need all of this in order to keep my strength up." 

"...For what?" 

She laughed. "Training." She tucked in then, wrapping up meat and cheese together, or wrapping cheese around pieces of fruit. Thor watched in fascinated adoration. 

Loki was thankful for his years of practice masking his features and took the opportunity to speak while Thor was still dumbfounded. "What made you choose Asgard, my lady?" 

She gave Loki a small, thoughtful smile as she peeled an orange. "Many things. I had never seen Asgard, and it's forces are the best in the Nine Realms." 

That was only two things, but Loki did not push further. "And what is it you seek, as part of Asgard's army?" 

She separated a wedge, popping it into her mouth after replying. "Many things." 

*****

Shortly after Loki and Thor had reached at the arena to train for the morning, Ilmr arrived, Vidar in tow carrying her rucksack carefully in his mouth. Loki used Thor's distraction against him and disarmed his brother. 

"Yield?" 

"Yield, brother!" Thor agreed as he retrieved his sword. "Tell me," For once, Thor had lowered his voice. He would have to write the day down. "Do you not think she is most unusual?" 

Loki watched her warm up after wrapping her hands in well-worn cloth. She was all grace and purposeful movement, no step or swing wasted. Her hound watched dutifully from where he lay against the nearby wall. "Unusual how?" 

Thor shrugged, watching her as well, though Loki ventured a guess that he was paying less attention to her sparring form and more her physical form. "She is very...forthright, but then not so at all. She seems to find much amusing, though in what I know not. And that animal..." Loki glanced to Vidar again. He was quite imposing, he'd give Thor that much. "He is most ...strange. I have not seen it's like before." 

Loki reached for his water skin as he thought of a reply. "You are just used to a woman falling before your feet. Even Sif does it. It seems to me she finds your bafflement at her ability to keep her wits in your presence amusing. I will grant you her hound, though. He I have yet to comprehend. I have not seen such a creature in any of my reading." 

Two hours later, as he and his brother left the arena, Loki chanced a backward glance, watching Ilmr continue with her practice, moving through the motions as though they were second nature. Perhaps they were. 

Mostly, Loki hadn't figured Ilmr out yet, and it irked him. She spoke so little and when she did, she was more enigmatic than himself. Her confidence was another point that he did not understand - clearly the family outcast, but it did not seem to lessen her surety of purpose or self. And then there was the hound. Vidar, she called him. He had never seen something that large called a hound. It was clearly not meant to be a domesticated animal. But where did she get it, and how did she domesticate it so thoroughly? It was completely uninterested in anyone around it, unless it directly affected his master, who he followed around like the puppy he apparently was. 

He took a small amount of pride in Thor's inability to charm her immediately; she clearly had her wits about her and would not be fooled or impressed by bravado. He had never ventured to the lands in Vanaheim her father presided over, but he had to be one to contend with, given that she'd cut off Odin once and Thor a number of times by now. He would need to study her further. 

*****

"Loki! Come quickly!" 

Loki's head snapped up from his book. It was not often that Fandral addressed him so, if at all. He set aside his book and hurried after the tow-haired warrior. 

"You must see this, I've…-it's very …strange." 

By the time they got to the arena, Loki had gathered that Ilmr was still training, though now with Vidar. The huge animal was stalking her around the arena, crouched low as if hunting prey. She, in turn, had a short staff in hand and circled him anti-clockwise. The animal sprung at her and she tucked and rolled, ending up beside him, giving his hindquarters a smack. In response, Vidar snapped at her staff; she moved not half a moment too soon. 

Teasing the animal, she pushed him back from one side to the center of the arena. She clearly hadn't noticed as far as Loki could tell, but by now most of those that had been training in the arena had stopped to watch their sparring. Quick as lightening, Vidar sprang forward and twisted to one side in the air, knocking Ilmr off her feet. As she rolled, he stomped after her form underfoot. Many observers jerked forward momentarily as if to rush to her aid, but then thought better of it considering the size of the hound. Loki merely watched. 

She didn't need the assistance, it seemed, as within a few moments she had knocked one of the beast's great paws out from under him and as he fell down towards her, she pushed his front paws up and to one side, ending up sitting on his massive chest, knees keeping her weight off of him, though Loki wasn't entirely sure that was necessary. They were both still for a moment before Vidar started furiously wagging his tail, raising a great cloud of dust and a dull drumbeat. 

Giving his chin a scratch, she stood and dusted herself off, only then glancing up and stopping short noticing the watchful crowd, small though it was. She slapped a hand against her thigh and Vidar rolled to his feet, loping after her as she walked towards the entryway to the arena without another moment's hesitation. 

Fandral glanced to Loki. "What do you make of that?" 

For his part, Loki did his best not to sigh. It seemed Fandral was now taken with her, too. It was easy to see why; without speaking much, she kept an inherent mystery to her that otherwise would likely have exposed a much more blasé background. "I think, Fandral, that she practices often with her animal." 

Ilmr inclined her head as she approached. "My lords. Will either of you be venturing out of the palace in the coming fortnight?" 

Fandral couldn't help himself. "Is there something I could help you with, my lady?" 

"A guide." 

Fandral knit his brows together. "Where to?" 

"Any nearby open spaces - forest, meadow; anything." She gestured behind her. "I would not wish this upon myself or Vidar again." 

"It was a sight to behold, truly. You would not practice here again and indulge a few curious soldiers?" 

She smiled slightly. "No." 

Loki spoke before Fandral could take it upon himself to look hurt. "I would be glad to lead you, Lady Ilmr. There are many places you could practice unseen that are not more than an hour ride from the palace." 

"Perfect." She glanced to Vidar before looking back to Loki, a curious expression hovering over her features. "Would you be willing to lead us there now?" 

He wasn't quite sure what her hurry was, but he acquiesced. "Of course. I will meet you in the stables in a quarter of an hour." 

*****

"What brings a high-born daughter of Vanaheim to the ranks of Asgard's forces?" They had been riding for almost ten minutes in near silence aside from banal pleasantries, Vidar easily keeping pace with his long legs. 

She stole a glance at Loki before sighing, clearly taking a few moments to properly form her reply. "As I said, Prince Loki: my father has five elder sons to whom he will pledge the land, and political and military positions of Vanaheim. My mother has two other daughters who are well pleased to act their role and become political pawns and housewives. I have neither desire or place among the Vanir." 

"Loki." 

She raised an eyebrow before nodding. "Ilmr." 

Loki allowed the faintest of grins to pass his lips before continuing. "You are the eldest daughter, are you not? Surely there is a place for you in the plans of your parents." 

"There was. I bargained for my own place in the Nine Realms. My father did not believe that I would be successful in my bid for a place among Asgardians. He wagered my identity would be discovered and I would be turned away." She smiled. "I think he was sure I would present his letter before, instead of after, winning our contest." Ilmr glanced at him again. "But what of you? Do you not also have a place in the plans of your parents?" 

Loki frowned. "I do." 

"And?" 

He gave her a blank expression. "I do not know what you mean by that." 

"Of course you do. Thor's place in Asgard is as mighty as his weapon. You sit on the Allfather's left side. You know as well as I do the place that has been carved for you. Do you not think to bargain for the place you want?" 

Loki blinked at her, narrowing his eyes. He brought his horse to block her way, ignoring the growl the motion elicited from Vidar. "You know nothing of me." 

Loki was surprised to see her smile, unfazed by the glare he had fixed on her. "And yet you presume to find out all you can about me? This will not do, Loki. We are more similar than you realize, you and I." She nudged her horse past him. "And as I recall, I seem to be the only one who takes you wholly into account, if Odin is to be believed." 

He stared after her a moment before catching up and riding close beside her. He was unsure when he became less able to mask himself, but it seemed that since she'd arrived the day before, she had made it nearly impossible for him to remain passive in many things. This venture was learning her more about him than he planned. Without much information from her, he could not properly discount her from his day-to-day goings-on and he needed to; a haughty, discarded princess would greatly interrupt him. "What makes you think others do not account for me?" 

"For one? Your upset at my assertion. For another, Thor's insistence that it's cheating to use your magic, and Odin's surprise that anyone could best you if they accounted for this talent, as though no one had thought of it before. Is that true?" 

She brought her horse to a halt when he didn't answer, looking at him straight on. It made him uncomfortable, to have her search his face so. He nudged his horse forward a couple steps. After a several moments silence, she nodded to herself. "It is, isn't it? They do not fully account for you because they have measured you against their faults and found you somehow wanting instead of themselves." 

Loki's eyes widened but he quickly nudged his horse back into a trot. He had never had someone speak to him thusly, and he wasn't sure whether he was relieved or put off. After several minutes of silence, he spoke as they entered a fairly large clearing in the trees. "This place is as good as any; you and Vidar will be left in peace to train." 

"Loki." She stopped him as he turned to leave. "If you return, Thor and Fandral will pester you to no end." She motioned to the open space around them. "Stay." As he started to turn away again, she continued. "I will tell you what you wish to know about Vidar." 

That did bring him up short, and he sighed. He wasn't sure how she could read him so well, but he did not like it. She was not two days into her indefinite stay in Asgard. Given enough time, it would drive him mad. He had spent years constructing his mask, making sure none could read him. To have that upper hand amongst his family and peers shattered not long after her arrival would be too much for him. Still, he reasoned, he would likely be able to read her -and keep her from reading him- if he spent the time now, however uncomfortable he was. He slid off his horse and tied him to a low-hanging branch at the edge of the clearing. 

Ilmr smiled and did the same. Calling Vidar over, she sat down on the grass, turning her hand as he approached so her palm faced the sky. The hound rolled onto his back, presenting her his belly and the drumbeat of his tail sounded as she indulged him in a bellyrub. "He likes you, you know." 

Loki sat down several feet away. "How so? I have not spent any time around the creature and when I do, he's growling." 

"Vidar," she corrected him, "does not bother with your brother. He stares past him, through him; bored. He tracks you with his eyes." 

Loki nodded. "Perhaps he does not like me and he's merely keeping an eye on me." 

She shook her head. "Elves can speak with the birds and beasts, remember?" He disliked that she had thrown that back at him for the second time in as many days. 

"How did you come upon him?" 

She rolled up one sleeve to a wide, pink scar that ran from just below her elbow and disappeared up into her sleeve. "His kind hail from Nidavelir, but often times rock trolls thieve them from the dwarfs to bring into their own lands." 

"And how did you end up with him?" 

She smiled. "My eldest brother, Anleifr, convinced me to travel with him to Nidavelir. He had heard tales of the Cailean -the type of hound Vidar is- and wanted one for himself. They grow so large and loyal if acquired as pups, he felt that it would be a fitting memento of this particular adventure to another world." She gave Loki a pointed look. "He was not unlike your brother and his exploits, from the tales I've heard." 

"And how did you end up with the pup meant for your brother?" 

"He died. I had had six brothers, Anleifr was the oldest and he had always had a fondness for me, as the oldest daughter. Some centuries ago - maybe four - he convinced me to go with him on this adventure. I agreed, foolhardy as I was for five hundred. We knew of the unrest between the dwarves and rock trolls but we went anyway. When we arrived in Nidavelir, it was fairly quiet, but on our way out with no luck sighting one of the Cailean, we found ourselves on the edge of a vicious skirmish. The rock trolls thought we had come to aid the dwarves and we ended up trying to fight our way out to the Bifrost site. My brother was the best of us, with a sword, but the size and might of the rock trolls was too much." She smiled briefly. "He was trying to look out for me, though he shouldn't have. I managed to support his weight until we found a cave, deciding to hide until the battle ended, but he didn't make it; he was hurt worse than he led me to believe. I covered his body with stones, and as I made my way back to the Bifrost site I came across a Cailean pup among the battlegrounds. Whether it was dropped or abandoned -or orphaned- I didn't know, but he was weak. I took him with me." 

Loki nodded. "And he has been at your side ever since? Four hundred years is a long time, for a hound of his size." 

"They live a long time - two thousand years, more or less, or so the tales say. I've never seen another. He looks and acts as though he's still a pup; he's only just beginning to fill out. You saw what I brought him for food this morning when I left the banquet hall." 

"Almost as much food as you eat, I know." 

She sat back on her heels, rummaging through her rucksack. "I have been training for five hours today and I'm not quite finished yet. Without that much fuel, I could never hope to properly practice or further develop my skill." 

Loki furrowed his brow. "Why so much practice?" She was shaping up to be much of what he had hoped - a few interesting stories, but mostly ordinary. 

She smiled. "The same reason you try so hard to remain expressionless: what I want I must try twice as hard for in order to have even the slightest chance." 

Loki had a blade at her throat in the space of a heartbeat. "You forget your place." 

The deep, gravel-grating sound that issued from Vidar's chest did not surprise Loki. Her hand motioning his silence and stillness did. She did not move otherwise, save to return Loki's glare with a passive stare. "My place has no bearing on the truth." She watched him quietly, continuing to disregard the blade still at her throat. "What is it that unsettles you so?" 

Loki shifted, sitting back. He was quiet for several minutes before looking back to Ilmr, the curiosity in his tone edged with cruelty. "What did your father say, when you returned home with a pup in tow and news of his dead heir?" 

She did not take his bait, much to his chagrin. "He was livid. I was punished for allowing him to die." She shrugged slightly, toying with the tufts of tawny-colored, wiry fur on Vidar's back. "We have not had a good relationship since. As much as he was anticipating my return to Vanaheim, I imagine he is well pleased with the news I have sent that I will not be returning." 

She noted his look of mild bewilderment. It was the most emotion of any kind he had purposely allowed her to see since she arrived. "Do you not resent your brother for what happened?" 

"Anleifr?" She watched Loki nod. "Why would I resent him?" 

"Because of him, you suffered." 

"My father's faults are not the burden of my brother to bear." 

"Were you not jealous of him, as you grew, watching your father favor him over you and your siblings and, once he had died, were you not jealous that you could not command similar emotion from your father, had it been you?" 

Ilmr regarded him as she thought. "Loki, I don't know if you're too young by Asgardian standards to know this, or you simply have never been told, but...envy? Envy is like holding your hand in flame and expecting that you will not be burned." 

He scoffed. "We cannot all be so pure of heart, my lady." 

"I do not say that I do not envy. I say that I try not to let it make my decisions for me. You would do well to remember that for yourself." 

Loki would give her the credit, no matter the glare, word or weapon, she did not back down from him. She had gone back to idly mussing Vidar's fur when he finally spoke again. He did not try to hide the sarcasm in his voice. "Did your mother teach you this?" 

She didn't spare him a glance as she shook her head. "My nursemaid. My mother was not in the business of being envious of much overlong. She got what she wanted when she wanted it - such is the life of an elven princess. Granted, she had a better life than most, but my nursemaid knew envy well. She didn't have the luxury of imagining what she was missing; she knew exactly, as my constant caretaker. She had the burden of feeling -and becoming bedmates with- envy. She did her best, when she saw it in me, to teach me what she had had to come to terms with." Ilmr finally raised her eyes to meet Loki's. "I am a covetous creature, Loki, do not think I am not. I will never be Solveig; she was a woman without parallel. She was the pure-hearted woman." 

His mood was slowly beginning to sour. "Sadly I have not had the luxury you have had, of kind minders and the ability to bargain for your freedom." 

She twisted her lips to one side as she watched him. Loki thought she would let the comment lie. She didn't. "You are both the prisoner and the warden. Remember that." 

He stood in a single, fluid motion. "Enjoy your practice." 

Loki fumed the entire ride back to the palace. How _dare_ she. This haughty, aloof, downright pedantic woman deigned to speak to him so. She needed to learn her place. She might have been royalty in Vanaheim, but she was in Asgard now. Her station at home afforded her well-appointed chambers in the palace, but no more than that, and she was a fool to think otherwise. 

**********

A/N: Hi, All! I'm going to try to update this weekly as I'm a bit ahead of myself in terms of writing and editing. The italicized song lyrics (and title of this story) are taken from Peeping Tom's "Don't Even Trip". I have a playlist in my head for this story that I think fits not just as a soundtrack instrumentally but lyrically as well and I'll include each song and artist in an author's note at the bottom of each chapter. Reviews, faves, follows, constructive criticism all welcome!


	2. Chapter Two - Of Loki, They Said Too Much

**Chapter Two – Of Loki, They Said Too Much**

A/N:  I hope you enjoyed Chapter 1!  This is up a little early as I realized given that I have 130 pages written already, I can afford to post the chapters once I have them proofed/edited to my satisfaction.

The chapters will swap back and forth between Loki and Ilmr’s point-of-view.  If there is any in-chapter switching, I’ll make note; for now, I hope you enjoyed Loki as Chapter 1 (because _of course_ he goes first) and now Ilmr as Chapter 2.  The italicized lyrics in this chapter are from Florence and the Machine’s “Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up)”.

 

 _I must become a lion hearted girl_  
 _Ready for a fight  
_ _Before I make the final sacrifice_

She had never wanted for much, which was the problem.  So much her mother's daughter, that it was forgone in her mind that she would earn a place in Asgard's ranks.  She did not think once that the desire would not become reality. First-born and least-loved of her father's daughters, Ilmr had spent many, many years measuring herself by her father's ruler and coming up short. Spurred on by the same ever-present hunger, the sheer _want,_  that so dominated her mother, she entered Asgard and won a place in the realm's forces.

Sinking into her bathwater, she relaxed, rubbing the ache out of her arms.  Vidar was sleeping soundly in the next room.  The previous evening, she had pulled over one of the deep, comfortable settees in her chamber to rest at the foot of her bed for him and he had immediately climbed up, much to the horror of the maidservant who came to wake her in the morning and in her bafflement at the sight blathered on about fur and upholstery.  

Dunking her head underwater, she surfaced, slicking her hair back.  She toyed with the notion of dyeing it.  She did not have her mother's elven ears, but she did possess the sharp features and grace characteristic of her mother's people.  And hair. Few in Asgard had a similar copper color.  If she dyed it, she would more easily blend in.  It was worth much thought.  

She scrubbed her skin hard, relishing the ache of her muscles and the rising, enveloping aroma of vanilla.  She had not thought of Anleifr in many years, though she devoted much of her life to living in the way he had taught her. Loki's questions had brought him again to the forefront of her mind.  Anleifr had been the one to garner and encourage her interest in swordplay and strategy.  Many nights she remembered sneaking away from her bedchamber as a child after Solveig thought her asleep to try to listen to her father and his councilors.  More times than she could count, she overheard her eldest brother and father arguing instead.  

_"You would do well not to encourage her, Anleifr.  A daughter is an important part of the court and you would compromise her, to instruct her so."_

_Her brother laughed; a rough baritone sound she found far more comforting than that of her father, who never laughed.  "Ilmr is no pawn, father, she is your child, just as I am.  You would see a means to an end, an alliance, a political pawn to use to your advantage, and not your child.  Not your_ daughter. _"  He laughed again, mirthless. "For_ shame _, father.  I would not stop teaching her swordplay were it your dying wish."_

_"Anleifr."  When her father used that tone, especially when she was very young, it always sent her scurrying to hide behind Solveig's skirts whether it was directed at her or not._

_It did not deter her brother. "I will make her the best strategist, the best warrior -the best_ Commander _you have in your kingdom, so that you_ cannot _ignore her; so that you, without her, are weaker."_

_She scrambled into the shadows hearing her brother's hurried footfall.  She did not hide well enough._

_He crouched low, a hand outstretched.  His voice held none of the anger and frustration it had moments ago.  "Let us take a walk, little sister."_

_He was only three hundred years her senior, but he had much wisdom.  She slipped her hand into his much larger one.  Even at six years of age, she marveled at how much larger he was than his peers._

_"Where will we go?"_

_He smiled, putting a finger to his lips as he whispered around it. "To spar."_

_Her eyes went wide and she threw her arms around him.  He had only just started to spar with her in the past month after teaching her basic swordplay: offensive and defensive moves she saw boys her age learning from their fathers and brothers.  She loved it.  She abandoned her dolls and spent hours in her room slashing away at imaginary enemies with the practice sword Anleifr had gifted her._

****

She twined her hair tight around her fingers, wringing out the excess water as she stepped out of the bath once the water had cooled.  She wasn't sure what to make of Odin's second-son.  Thor was straightforward: loud, brash and unabashed.  He took hold of life in the same way he wielded Mjolnir.  She was never quite sure what to make of the tales they told of him, but seeing him now that she was in Asgard, she knew they were likely all true.  

Loki was a different story.  Where Thor's strength was in his audacity, Loki's was in his reservation.  He was well known for his wiles, but Ilmr did not believe much of these tales either, and even less so now that she was in Asgard.  He was made less of guile and more of intellect and a talent seen less often among the Aesir as the ages passed.  

Climbing into bed, she sighed.  She couldn't deny that though she had insisted on a room that other soldiers would be accustomed to, she was glad she was appointed a different space.  Vidar liked it much better, she was sure, judging by the deep rumble issuing from his chest as he resettled in his sleep.  

*****

"And what, pray tell, does the Lady Ilmr have planned for today?" Thor smiled wide at her from across the table in the banquet hall. 

She smiled despite herself.  She was not fond of an early morning no matter how many years she had been forcing herself up before dawn, but it was difficult to shrug off Thor's effervescence. "Training, Prince Thor."

He furrowed his brow.  "I do not understand; that won't take up the entire day, surely.  Our forces drill in the mornings."

"I am aware.  I will train with them in the morning, and in the afternoon I will take Vidar to exercise and train as well."  She took a sip from her glass. "He would be more than happy to get lazy and fat if I seemed inclined to allow it."

"Is that all that you do, my lady?" Thor sounded deflated.

She inclined her head to Loki in greeting as he took his seat beside his brother at the table before smiling at Thor.  "Some days. Today, after I am through with Vidar's practice, I will likely retire to the library.  Asgard has a great wealth of knowledge that we do not have access to in Vanaheim.  I hope to avail myself of it, if at all possible."

She watched as Loki's gaze met hers.  The set of his jaw belied the look of curiosity in his eyes.  "And what would a shield maiden have use of in the library?"

He was unsettled by her, and she didn't know why.  It seemed that she was the only one to speak to him in the way she did and it clearly infuriated him.  Certainly, he had an intensity about him, but Thor was no less so.  His quiet, perhaps, made others wary of him, while Thor wore his heart on his sleeve. Loki's gibes were meant to cut, she knew, but she found them all the more amusing for it, which seemed to anger him further.

After taking the time to regard him while she chewed -something else that seemed to make him uncomfortable, how long she would take picking apart his expression- she decided to humor him.  "If I never set foot in the library, I may well forget my letters; I would be a poor warrior indeed if I could not read a map or a missive from my commanding officer, so I occasionally find it prudent to enter the hallowed halls of the learned and brush up on my abysmal skills."

Thor seemed to take an unusually large gulp of juice, even for him.  Loki's eyes hardened. She wasn't quite sure why she bothered him so much, but the more it seemed to discomfit him, the more inclined she was to continue.  It was petty, certainly, but given the difficulty she would face in the coming days as she proved herself to her fellow soldiers -and she had no doubt that she would have to- it was a small piece of enjoyment.  

He did not speak to her the remainder of the meal, though she saw him shoot daggers at her whenever she did catch his eye.  At the sound of a horn in the distance, she bowed her head slightly.  "My lords, I must take my leave of you, it seems it is time for me to begin my training with the guard."  

Arriving on the field, she unsheathed her blade and began warming up as others arrived.  Catching the eye of Lady Sif, they exchanged a nod, but no more.  Sif understood, Ilmr was sure: if she wanted the respect of the men, she would not lean on the only other woman.  In private they could enjoy the company of one another, but on the field it would discredit them both.  At least until Ilmr had proved herself, she couldn't appear as though she were seeking Sif out.  

They did not have armor for her yet, she was to be measured after the morning drills and it would arrive from the smithee the following week.  In the meantime, she wore her Vanirian armor.  It was not so different from what Sif wore, she supposed.  Instead of the silver and red Sif was clad in, Ilmr's armor -chest plate and vambraces- was a pale golden color, silver inlaid to create a border reminiscent of branches.  The leather of her skirt was dyed a rich purple, under which she bore black trousers tucked into black leather boots.  The top under the chest plate, also purple, was made of a much lighter material, though in battle there would be chain mail between it and the armor.  

It did not make her stand out any more than Sif did, aside from color, but it was enough that it earned her the privilege of being singled out for the duration of the morning drills. They were not so different from what she was used to among the Vanir, which earned her contempt from the other recruits, to be seen picking up the various forms so quickly.  Shortly after the noon hour, drilling ended for the day.

"Princess!" 

Ilmr froze mid-step and turned hearing her commanding officer's voice.  She bowed slightly. "Commander Cuyler.  What is it you wish?"

"How old are you?"

"Nine hundred and twenty-nine, sir."

He inclined his head.  "Once you have been fit for your armor, return to the field. Fifty laps, nine hundred and twenty nine push ups."  

Ilmr nodded. "My thanks, sir."

Fifty laps in full armor in the noonday heat.  Asgardian heat was much stronger than what she was used to in Vanaheim.  The field the guard used to practice was half a mile in circumference, and by the time she had finished both tasks, sweat was pouring off of her steadily.  She did not remove her armor as she strode back to her quarters to bathe and change.  More than half of her fellow recruits had stayed behind to watch her and she would not give them the satisfaction of seeing her uncomfortable. 

She kicked her door shut as she began unbuckling her chest plate.  Vidar was so enthused to see her that she didn't have the heart to make him wait while she bathed.  She could do it after.  He did not need to hear the cue to heel to follow along six inches from her right leg.  Clad in just the purple skirt and shirt that made up the base of her armor, she swung onto her horse and let him out at a pace that had Vidar jogging to keep up.  

******

By the time they returned to the palace as the sun set, she had managed to tire Vidar out, though given how exhausted she was, she wasn't sure how she managed it; Vidar was still so young it should have taken much more to tire him. They had sparred for what she estimated to be nearly two hours.  That hadn't been enough for him, understandably, and she spent the rest of the afternoon tossing one of the globes that she supposed was meant to be ornamentation for her desk so that he could retrieve it. 

She arrived to the banquet hall in the midst of the evening meal, unwilling to arrive to dinner without a bath.  The vaulted ceilings rang with the merriment of the evening as she made her way to the high table.  She bowed low as she approached, seating herself in the empty chair next to Loki and across from the Queen herself.  

"My lady, Queen Frigga.  It is my deepest pleasure to make your acquaintance." 

Frigga's smile spread across her features like dawn breaking. "Lady Ilmr, the pleasure is mine.  I have heard much of you from my sons."

Ilmr smiled pleasantly, managing to keep in any shock she may have felt at hearing the plural.  She had no doubt Thor would have mentioned something; he seemed quite taken with her. But she was surprised Loki would make mention of her at all.  "I hope they have not bored you overmuch with my presence."

"Not at all. How are you finding Asgard?"

Ilmr chewed slowly, trying to come to a conclusion. "I find myself liking it here, though it has only been a handful of days.  The realm and palace are beautiful. Of Thor, the stories did not say enough.  Of Loki, they said too much."

Thor was not able to keep from choking on a bite as he had been that morning.  Loki was all daggers.

Frigga raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

Ilmr replaced her fork, seeing a rather large spider climb it's way over her morsel and up the tines towards her hand. "The tales I have heard of Thor seem to say too little of him.  I suspect because with any more detail, they would seem too fantastical, but they fall short of his presence.  The tales I have heard of Loki say entirely too much about the wrong things."

Frigga nodded with a smile when it became clear Ilmr would say no more.  "And how are you finding Asgard's forces?"

Ilmr allowed herself a brief laugh.  "I am well pleased to have been allowed to join their ranks.  Today was my first day drilling with them; they are not so different from the Vanir, but enough so that I will learn many new techniques."

Frigga sipped her wine before continuing, stealing a glance of her second-son as she spoke.  "I am glad; it sounded as though it was no easy task to earn yourself a place among the guard."

Ilmr smiled. "It was not."

***** 

"Cuyler had it out for me, too." Ilmr lifted her head hearing a voice across from her that could only have been Sif's.  The Queen had retired a short while before, but Ilmr was still eating, seemingly to Thor's continued delight and bafflement.   

Ilmr smiled.  "And here I thought I was favored." 

Sif laughed. "He'll grow lax, once he sees you prove yourself."

It seems word of how she gained access to Asgard's forces was not circulated widely as of yet. "One can only hope."   

She noticed Loki bristle slightly beside her. His pride was not able to stand her silence overlong when she did not provide more than she had.  "She has proven herself already."  He sounded at once insulted and angry.  

Sif raised her eyebrows, glancing between both she and Loki.  "How so, Prince?" 

"She was required to best me if she wished to join his army. 

Sif let out an audible breath in surprise, turning back to Ilmr. "You bested Loki? What -How? He always cheats." She turned her gaze quickly to Loki, eyes hard, not giving Ilmr a chance to respond.  "Did you let her best you, thinking she could not?" 

Ilmr smiled at Sif's affront for her sake, but intervened.  "No, Lady Sif, nothing of the sort.  I anticipated his talent.  He was not anticipating that I would, given how often it seems others tend to account for it." 

Ilmr noticed one corner of Loki's mouth twitch in satisfaction at Sif's gape. 

"Surely, you jest."  Sif found her words several moments later.  "Cheating is no more noble than it is fair." 

Ilmr swallowed the last bite of her dinner, holding a hand to Loki seeing him open his mouth.  He seemed to detest the motion given the look of disgust on his face, but he acquiesced, or at least, was too shocked that she dare attempt silence him. "Do you call it so in battle?" 

"...What?" Sif pushed her eyebrows together.

"Do you call his talents cheating when in the heat of battle?" 

"No, I suppose I do not." 

"Do you call it cheating when Thor uses Mjolnir in the arena?" 

"Of course not!" She scoffed. 

"Then why is it cheating when Loki uses his gift, but it is not so when Thor uses his?  That is senseless." 

Sif blinked at her.  Ilmr wondered if she would make a friend out of this warrior woman after all.   

"I apologize, Lady Sif, but it does not make sense to me.  Magic is not something that is commonplace in Asgard, it seems, but many of the elves my mother is born from claim magic as a skill in battle, elves Asgard would call on when in need of aid as they would their swords or bows.  It may be my familiarity with the talent, my mother and three of my siblings possess it, but I can not fathom why you would condemn it in him and praise it in others." 

"Do you possess the same ability?" Sif seemed to ignore the rest of Ilmr's words. 

"No.  Of the nine of us, only three possess the skill; I was not one of them.  My youngest sister, Skuld, possesses the talent as the gift of foresight.  My other sister, Unn, can conjure music and song so beautiful it moves men to tears.  My brother Njordr's magic manifests in his strength and tirelessness that is remarkable, even among the Light Elves." 

"He taught you how to use a blade?"  

Ilmr smiled, realizing Sif would do anything to avoid going back to the previous conversation.  "No, Njordr would not have done so, he was always careful to obey my father's wishes. My brother Anleifr taught me." 

"He did not fear your father's retribution?" Sif glanced briefly at Loki as she spoke. 

"He did not.  He was the first in line, but beside that, he possessed a courage I have not yet seen the equal of." 

She noticed Thor shift out of the corner of her eye.  He may have been taken with her ability to contend with his brother in battle and her ability to eat as much as he did, but he was not taken with her daring to call someone else more courageous, it seemed.   

Sif noticed his shift as well, if her small smile was any indication.  "It sounds as if he taught you well, then."  She held her hand across the table.  "I think I will like having another woman to battle alongside.  And to share in Cuyler's rewards, it seems." 

Ilmr laughed, squeezing Sif's proffered hand. "Surely twenty-five miles and a thousand push-ups is a gift reserved for only his newest recruits." 

"One thousand?"  Sif plucked a candied apricot from her plate as she spoke. 

"Well," Ilmr imitated his voice, "Nine hundred and twenty nine." She laughed at herself. "One for each name day." 

"No!" Sif laughed. 

She nodded.  "Oh yes.  I may be his most-favored, my lady, for which I apologize.  That, and for retiring so early.  I find I am quite tired, between this morning with the guard and this afternoon with Vidar; I am not used to the heat in Asgard as of yet." 

Sif nodded. "We will have plenty of time to speak in the future.  Good evening, Ilmr." 

*****  

Ilmr had planned to visit the palace library after dinner.  Now that she had added an extra twenty-five miles and several hundred pushups since she woke, she found she had no extra strength with which to visit the library now that the meal was over and she had the rest of the evening to do as she wished.  It was not that the exertion had been particularly taxing, but the heat would take some getting used to.

She greeted Vidar as she closed her door, his tail nearly knocking over a nearby vase.  As she readjusted it, she sensed someone in the shadows of her balcony.  "Lurking is unbecoming on even a prince."

Loki stepped out of the shadows but made no motion to venture further than the balcony's edge.  Vidar growled and made for their guest, stopping only when Ilmr snapped her fingers. Loki did his best to ignore the animal. "I forget your hearing is better than most."

She hummed, unpinning her hair from the coif she had hastily fashioned on her way to dine. "I was expecting you sometime soon, though I was not sure if it would be this evening."

"Oh?" Loki raised his brows.  

Ilmr smiled.  She was not sure why he was playing the dunce. "My defense of you makes you curious.  I knew if it was not this evening, it would be tomorrow that you sought me out."  She shook her hair out with one hand, turning to him as she did so. "Do you not feel yourself worthy of such?"

"I do not know what you're playing at. You storm in, brazen and cocksure, unbefitting of your station. You deign to interrupt myself, my brother, my father: Odin himself.  You act as though you are above us all.  I do not know what you are doing here, but I will find out, do not mistake me."

Ilmr motioned to one of the seats in her room as she sat on the settee Vidar was occupying part of.  He was sitting up staring straight at Loki, no growl in his throat but his eyes hard.  "I will tell you, if you like."

She wasn't sure what his purpose was in this venture, why he would confront her now, of all times.  She had not been there a week and yet he was so distrustful that he felt the need to corner her, it seemed.  She gave him a small smile as he sat.  

"You wish to know what I'm doing here and why I treat you as I do?"  She nods a little to herself.  "What I am doing, Odinson, is making a place for myself."  She held up a hand seeing him open his mouth. He was intelligent, but he was no less impetuous than his brother, in his own way.  "You misunderstand me and my purpose. I told you yesterday we are not so different, you and I.  I meant it, whether you are willing to see it or not.  We may not bear it in the same way, but that does not change the fact that you are unsettled because I understand you."

Loki scoffed. "And what is it that you _understand_  about me, my lady? You do not know me any more than you know your maidservant."

"Don't I? Whether you like it or not, you and I have been brushed aside by those we would seek approval from.  We do not stand tall enough in the eyes of our people."

His lips curled into a wicked smile.  In another circumstance, Ilmr imagined, it would seem impish instead of cruel. "Sadly I have not had the fortune of minders who would--"

"--Your brother's fondness for you is unmistakable, as is your mother's.  Do not speak to me of being alone in this place.  Your isolation is the fault of your own actions.  Your brother's fondness for you is much like Anleifr's was for me."

"You would do well to remember your place."  That seemed to be the phrase he fell back on, when she confounded him.

"Or what?  You will conjure more spiders to startle me at dinner?" She shook her head, marveling at the fury etched in his features. "I do not know what you expected of me, but I do not fear you."

He shot up out of his seat, crossing over to stand in front of her, bent down over her, ignoring the guttural sound emanating from the towering beast. "You should."

She regarded him without so much as blinking.  He was so much like Inghard, with his hot head and cool mask. "Until I speak against you, I do not see what I have to fear from you.  Do elaborate."

He searched her eyes, anger roiling in his own.  So, so much like her second-eldest brother, Ilmr decided.  He was so bent on proving himself.  It had not always been so, when Inghard had been third in line.  After Anleifr perished, he changed.  Loki was so much like him; he tried so hard to distinguish himself from his elder sibling only to do himself more harm than good.  Ilmr wondered when Loki would realize it.  Inghard still hadn't come to the understanding; he was nearly three thousand years old and couldn't discern why he was less favored than brothers.  It was things like that which made her glad that she was seventh-born.  She spent so much time observing her brothers and their successes and failures that she knew so much sooner than they the things they had to discover or learn by mistake.  For Loki's sake, she hoped it did not take as long as it was taking Inghard.

When he finally spoke, his voice was edged with wariness despite the hard tone he tried to maintain. "You would toy with me until I am at my wits end with your supercilious, maddening indifference.  Do not think that I do not see that you think you have already won over my mother and brother.  You would win me with perceived kindness and unnecessary aid.  I do not want it and I will not bend."

Ilmr could not help but to laugh.  She covered her mouth, seeing his face flush with rage. She shook her head and cleared her throat.  "My apologies, Loki, I am exhausted to the point of the ridiculous.  I do not know what it is you have endured in your lifetime, but I am sorry that you cannot fathom kindness for it's own sake.  I am here because I have had my fill of playing the outcast in my own home, and I wish to start again elsewhere; Asgard seemed as good a place as any."

He stepped back, eyes hard and jaw clenched tight, seething silently as he stared her down. "Do not trifle with me again."

Ilmr passed him where he stood, heading towards her armoire to change into a nightshift. She turned her head to see him start for her door as she worked the knots out of the bodice of her dress.  "Do not seek me out further, and I will not."  

He pulled her door shut forcefully in response.  

Crawling into bed was blissful.  She felt the end of the bed sink and heard a familiar snuffling.  

"Alright, love, but only because I'm so tired."

Vidar crawled up and snuggled into her side, his huge head resting on the pillow next to hers.  She rested her face against the scruff of his neck.  They hadn't been in Asgard long enough for him to have shaken the woodsy, clean scent of Vanaheim from his fur yet.  With the cool fan of his lazy tail, Ilmr fell into a dreamless sleep.

            


	3. Chapter 3 - The Least-Loved Pariah of My Family

**Chapter Three – The Least-Loved Pariah of My Family**

_I know what to show_  
 _And what to conceal_  
 _I know when to talk_  
 _And I know when to touch  
_ _No one ever die from wanting to much_

She was  _infuriating._ Deigning to speak to him as she did.  Loki paced through the gardens instead of retiring to his chambers, too angry to think of sleep.  

It had been so long since anyone, aside from his mother, spoke well of him in such a way, or chastised him so.  There was purpose behind it, he knew.  There had to be.  She may have been sent by her father as a veiled bid for a place among Asgard's royalty. No, he decided. If that were so, she would have shown interest in Thor beyond humoring him and his bluster.  

Loki could not fathom the ends she had in mind by her kindness to him.  He doubted that it was as she had claimed: kindness to be kind.  He would concede to her her perceptive nature; she was right that they were similar.  She seemed to have had only her eldest brother and a nursemaid; Loki had only his mother.  He did not believe her that Thor was especially affectionate.  He was boisterous and ungentle, a bilgesnipe in a nursery.  He may have cared for his younger brother, but Thor's interest in keeping Loki in his lowered place outweighed that affection.  

That was where their similarities ended.  Ilmr may have been glad to move on to another place and accept the disdain of her family, but Loki could not and would not. 

Her place in Vanaheim was a foregone conclusion: five living brothers ahead of her meant she would have never had a chance for the throne of her father.  It sounded, too, as though her two younger sisters were valued higher than herself, given her penchant for battle and bad behavior.  

Loki's head snapped up as he abruptly halted his pacing.  How had he been so  _blind_?  Ilmr was the key.  She was the missing piece to his puzzle.   

Odin had always asserted that both of his sons had an equal opportunity for the throne, if only they could prove worthy.  It seemed to Loki that he had always been found wanting, to use Ilmr's phrase.  He had the wits and wisdom to rule, but Thor had always been favored despite his obtrusive bumbling through any matters of state he had ever been involved in.  Loki needed a way to prove himself worthy of the throne, and here she was, not a week prior, waltzing into Asgard with her monstrous hound and surety of purpose.   

She wanted to carve out a new life for herself, she had told him.  She did not mention whether that new life included a crown, but it did not matter.  She was perceptive, eerily perceptive, and between them, he was sure, they could win the throne.  He could win the throne.  Was she not already winning over his mother?  Was his brother not smitten? She spoke highly of him and his 'talent', as she called it.  She silenced Sif at dinner with similar talk of his skill. Could she not persuade others to see it as such and so put him at an advantage he did not have before?   

He was a fool not to see his opportunity before.  He was a fool to have spoken to her as he did just hours earlier.   

He would need to apologize.  He would need to be utterly sincere in it, he was sure.  He feared she would see through him otherwise.  He did not know why she could read him so easily, but it would not bode well for his burgeoning plan to use her as his advantage if she could see any lie in his face, his manner.  He would need to mean it. 

Or he would need to lie very, very well. 

*****

He did not see her when he arrived in the banquet hall for breakfast, nor did he see her in the arena. Loki cursed himself for riding all the way to the clearing he had shown her only to find her not there, either.  She was not in her room.  It was nearly evening when the thought crossed his mind: she might well be at the library.

Turning down a myriad of halls, he marched into the library atrium with his jaw set, only remembering at the last moment that he was supposed to be apologetic.  When he finally found her, tucked into a corner using Vidar as a pillow, she did not raise her eyes from the page, though it was impossible for her not to be aware of his presence.   

He cleared his throat, at which she lifted an eyebrow, but not an eye.  "A word, my lady."

She placed her finger in the book to keep her place, and a soft snap silenced Vidar, who had been rumbling since Loki appeared before them.  She did not speak, merely regarded him quietly.  

This would not be so easy.  Loki sighed, picking at a stray thread on his tunic so as to appear nervous before lifting his eyes to hers again.  "I wish to apologize, my lady." His words earned him two lifted brows.  "I spoke rashly last night and it was unwarranted.  You are right - I am not used to being spoken well of by many," _any,_ he thought, "and I admit it flustered me and I should not have treated you so." 

She made him wait an uncomfortably long time before she spoke.  "What made you realize this?" 

He sat himself in the nearby chair that she had forgone in favor of Vidar.  "Your words, the truth in them.  I could not sleep for the fury in my heart.  It took me more time than I want to admit to calm myself and think clearly but when I did, I realized I needed to apologize.  You have only spoken well of me since you arrived and I have acted poorly." 

She nodded.  He wasn't sure what to make of her silence.  He hoped she would forgive him, otherwise winning her over would be that much harder.  Loki liked a challenge, but he had enough in front of him already that he didn't need one more hurdle.   

After a long stretch of silence, she sighed.  "Forgiven, Loki.  I do not want an enemy here, not so soon after I've arrived, or at all if I can help it."  She scratched under Vidar's chin as she continued, watching the hound with affection.  "It is hard to keep up with what seems to go on in your mind, but given how little you show, I suppose that is to be expected."  She looked back to Loki.  "I am much less offensive when I don't have to guess, you know." 

Loki did not have to feign surprise. "You guessed? At what?" 

Ilmr let a quiet laugh escape her as she nodded. "Somewhat, anyway.  At the cause of your moods." 

He simply nodded.  He was right.  She was very perceptive.  He would need to be very careful.   She quieted, and he cast around for something to say.  If he wanted to have her as an ally, he would need to act quickly to best rectify his behavior of the past few days and keep her from getting too familiar with his brother and his friends too soon.  Loki could think of nothing to say.  At a great, heaving sigh of Vidar, he smiled.  "How much bigger will he grow?" 

Ilmr smiled wide, rustling his fur affectionately before looking back to Loki.  "You do not have tales of the Cailean in Asgard?" 

He shook his head.  "No, I'd never seen or heard of the beasts until yours appeared beside you." 

"He will get to be much taller.  He's done growing for now; from what little I have managed to find, they grow at a great pace until they reach two hundred years of age, then they spend the next few years filling out into their height.  There's supposedly another, much more impressive spurt of growth around five hundred years of age, at which time his shoulder will end up around your height, maybe a little taller.  By six hundred, he'll be his full height and weight." 

Loki did not need to feign surprise.  He did not like showing his emotions, even so little as this, but he would need to show some, to earn her trust.  To get her on his side, when the time came to choose sides.  "Truly?" 

She let out a soft laugh. "Truly. It's because of this that I've taken great care to train him.  Any bigger than he is now, and I would be unable to contain him if he misbehaved." 

"You could contain him now, if he acted out?"  He tried not to look dubious and failed.   

"I did not best you with luck alone, my lord. Anleifr spent my life making me as worthy an adversary as he was.  My father's disappointment in my success to win a place in Asgard will not only be because it loses him an opportunity to gloat, but because he will have lost his most prominent Commander in a millennia." 

She was shaping up to have a less than banal story to her after all, which Loki was glad for, now.  "You gave up the position of Commander to become a mere soldier in Asgard's forces?"  

Ilmr shrugged. "I meant it when I said I wanted a place of my own.  That means starting over.  I will eventually be a Commander again." 

"That could take years."  This did baffle him.  Regardless of her status as an outcast, she had been Commander, her father's most valued.  That would count, when it came to it.  "Why did you not stay? Surely, it counted for something." 

"It will likely take me as many years as it took me in Vanaheim, but I can be patient.  The years will go by quickly enough.  And no," she spared Loki a rueful smile, "It would not have counted for anything.  I may have won more battles and accolades than my brothers, than those to hold the title before me under his reign, but that does not mean my father would have rewarded me for any of it.  He only granted me my title because he could not afford not to.  He needed me, but not so much that he was willing to part with more than a title." 

Loki knew the sting of such dismissal well.  "But you had that, at least.  That he could not take from you." 

"He wouldn't, no.  But a husband would, and I think my father counted on it, eventually, even if it was detrimental to him.  It would finally get me out of his halls.  This way, I have loosed myself from those bindings."  She smiled to herself. 

He furrowed his brow.  "What do you mean?" 

"That was our agreement, my father and I."  She finally set her book aside and sat up straighter, rather than lounge against Vidar.  "If I could prove myself worthy of Asgard, I would be free to stay.  I am no longer theirs to grant betrothal to or call back to their halls on a whim.  I remain their daughter and Vanirian royalty, but as far as the Vanir are concerned, I am in exile."  

Loki did his best not to appear dumbfounded and succeeded, mostly.  "You chose exile over the place you had carved among your people?" 

Ilmr's eyes narrowed. "I chose exile over being the least-loved pariah of my family, Loki." 

"What made you choose Asgard?"  

"Vanaheim was no place for me any longer, and I could not go to Alfheim.  My mother's kin would not look kindly upon my arrival under such circumstances.  Many other realms I would not be accepted in or would be too dangerous.  The choice then was either Midgard or Asgard.  Midgard I have heard much, but they do not live overlong and given what I know, Vidar and I would be too obvious to live peacefully.  Asgard was the only choice from the outset." 

He nodded.  "And how are you finding Asgard?" 

She shrugged. "It hasn't quite been a week, but so far I am enjoying it, though it's taking some getting used to." 

"Oh?" 

"The heat is stronger here than in Vanaheim, it's exhausting me sooner than I am accustomed to; I'm assuming the winter will be chillier as well.  It smells different, as well -a scent more reminiscent of stone and the sea than the forest and the damp earth underfoot. Folk seem welcoming enough; those that I have met.  Well," she laughed quietly, "those I have met that are _not_  a part of Asgard's forces.  From what I gather from Lady Sif, she endured something similar when she first began."  She watched him quietly for several moments, as if gauging something.  "It's tempting, you know.  The thought of asking you to alter my hair." 

Loki blinked.  He was unsure where the thought came from, or why she had thought of him.  "What do you mean, my lady?" 

"Ilmr.  And I mean I stand out too much, and not in the right way.  My coloring does not help.  Were it blonde, or even brown, I could better blend in." 

He smiled slightly, thinking of how infuriated Sif had been when he changed her hair color when they were children, and now the woman in front of him was willingly thinking of doing the same.  "It can be done, but I do not know how to reverse it." 

"No?" 

"Ask Lady Sif." 

Ilmr had the sense to cover her mouth but she laughed nonetheless.  "You jest!" 

Loki shook his head.  "She would not speak to me for weeks and to this day is not fond of me because of it." 

She giggled quietly.  "Forgive me, I should not laugh, but it is difficult not to.  You have yet to find a way to reverse it, given all of your magical expertise?" 

"She doesn't believe me, either.  But no, for all its simplicity, I have not found a way to reverse it.  I would do it, but you would need to be sure." 

He watched as she passed a lock through her fingers, watching it in thought.  "No."  She finally murmured.  "No, leave it.  As much as I am easier marked as someone other than Aesir, I would not want to be unable to change it back."  She looked to him as she dropped the piece she had been toying with.  "And I would be ashamed to find folk think I changed it because I was uncomfortable with myself." 

"Are you?"  This conversation was going better than he anticipated.  He would have her trust sooner than he imagined, and from there it would not take much to further win her over, and so, the throne. 

She shook her head.  "No.  Mostly, I worry for Vidar.  They do not know what to make of him, of me, and I wonder if I were to blend in better whether he would be disregarded." 

Loki raised an eyebrow.  "The beast that will be taller than a man?  You think your appearance will make him less noticeable?" 

"I don't think it will make him less noticeable, I think if I looked more Asgardian he would be regarded with less suspicion.  That's why I had you show us the clearing.  I will not practice with him where others can see.  It will only feed their fear and I do not want someone learning his weaknesses." 

She was fiercely protective of her animal.  He knew she loved it and that it was ever at her side, save for mealtimes, but she seemed to care for the hound with a ferocity he was not accustomed to in Asgard between man and beast.   

"Drills with Commander Cuyler are going well, then?" 

"Well enough.  He is not fond of me, as he was not fond of Sif, from what I know.  I am a quick study and he seems to despise this rather than value it." 

Loki smirked.  "Perhaps instead you should appear to--" 

"--Appear to what, struggle? I will not lower myself so that he can feel superior.  He is my Commander and should be secure in that.  If he is not…" she shook her head.  "If he is not, I fear battle under his direction." 

Loki watched as Vidar shifted.  After so long without his master's touch, the hound placed his great head into her lap, lifting his eyebrows skyward.  She smiled and indulged him, scratching behind his ears.  The animal could be useful, as well.  Not just in protecting her, but as a rare asset that Thor did not possess.  And according to Ilmr, the hound liked him.  He had yet to see anyone but Ilmr lay a hand on him, and he needed to know he could also touch the animal as a way to further gain her trust.  "He is very fond of you." 

"He and I have spent the past four hundred years together; not only have I raised him but he trusts me to direct him and keep him from harm in battle." 

"Have you seen much war, in your lifetime?"  She was nearly his age, but Loki did not recall any battles in Vanaheim, safe for the battles before either of their births.   

"I've seen enough.  The rock trolls and the dwarves that I mentioned were one instance.  A few smaller skirmishes, when I was younger.  Since I found Vidar, we have seen a few, though mostly as mercenaries at my father's behest for political advantage, none that threatened Vanaheim or it's people.  Yourself?" 

"I have seen battles aplenty, though I admit a good number come from the adventures I am pulled into by my brother." 

Ilmr laughed.  "As I said, they say too little of Thor and too much of you." 

Loki bristled again, though kept it contained.  "I do not see how that is meant to endear me." 

"You heard me speak to your mother last night over dinner.  They leave out so many of Thor's adventures, likely for seeming too fantastical.  Of you, they say all the wrong things.  They speak of your deceit and darkness.  They do not mention your wit or your talent." 

"Why do you use such a word?" 

"Why should I not? Did you not spend countless years honing your natural ability into what it is today?  Just because others do not see it for what it is does not mean it doesn't have worth."  She paused the soothing stroke of Vidar's head, who Loki realized had fallen asleep under her hands.  "What has he done, that you are so proud of, but yet so loathe your skill?" 

"Who?"   

"Odin." 

Loki was silent.  He was yet unwilling to share much of himself.  He would have to, if he wanted her trust.  She would give him an advantage in his bid for the throne, she would turn the tide with her talk of his 'talent', he was sure.  With her skill in battle, her titles -whether she was exiled or not- her unusual companion, and her apparent perception of at least as much as Loki saw, she was an important addition to his plan that could not be ignored.  Thor would have Mjolnir and his bluster.  Loki would have his own skills and talents and he was determined that he would also have her and her persuasion, that was somehow more effective than his own, to finally win the people and his family over.   

Loki decided she was not particularly to his taste, whether it was true or not.  He could not be distracted and to let such an obstacle as attraction be his shortcoming in this attempt was unthinkable.  He would bid for the throne with her at his side.  For this, he would need to be more vulnerable than he was comfortable being.  He would most certainly lie, he decided, but he would need to do so carefully.  She would see through him if he was not precise, if they were not partial truths in some way.   

He gave her a tight smile.  "I am the least-loved pariah of my family, by my father's standard.  It has always been so. Because of my tri--...talents, as you call them.  Because Thor is the golden prince, and I the dark."  He shrugged.  "Much as you are aware, one child must always be the least-loved.  That burden fell to me, as it did to you." 

She raised her eyebrows.  He may have been a little too dramatic.  She sighed.  "Do you believe that, in earnest?" 

"That I am least-loved, as you are?  Yes.  Without doubt, I believe it."

"No, do you believe that it is a fault of yours and not Odin's?" 

"I believe it to be my father's in whole, but I bear it nonetheless." 

"Do you always strive to pity yourself so?" 

He tilted his head back slightly as if struck. " _What_  did you just say to me?" There was more menace in his voice than he meant there to be. 

She did not recoil.  That was something else.  She had spine enough not to back down from him where others would.  That was an asset all it's own and would make the whole situation that much more bearable. "You did not mistake my words." 

He grit his teeth, willing himself to settle his anger. "No. I do not." His words were clipped.  "I do not want the _pity_  of others, I do not allow self-pity.  Do you not paint a tragic picture of yourself?" 

She smiled. "You are the one who asked for my story, I would not have given you the information otherwise.  While you, Loki, you parade your disdain and near-rage for all to see." 

"Do I?" He was getting defensive again.  He could not get defensive. He decided last night he needed her to help win him the throne and he was doing a perfect job of ruining any opportunity.  He cleared his throat and buried the rage threatening to speak for him. "Truly, Ilmr, do I?" 

She regarded him warily, eyes narrowed.  Vidar was awake and had his head lifted out of her lap.  "I think you already know it's true.  You may give them a blank expression much of the time, but that does not mean they cannot sense the anger in you. They do not call you the dark prince because you look so different from Thor.  I know you know this." 

He sighed. "It is not self-pity. It is merely anger. Frustration. Surely you know of what I speak." 

"Just as you know what I said.  I stand by it. I am envious by nature; it is one of the few things my mother ever gifted me, but that does not mean I don't try to be less so.  You seem to think that by it, you will gain what you seek." 

He smiled. "And what is it that I seek?" He tried not to sound too condescending and, he thought, succeeded.  Mostly. 

"Many things.  Acceptance.  Respect.  Approval.  The love that you do not realize you already have from your family."  

He let his eyes drop as if she were seeing through him.  He was relieved she did not mention the crown.  "Even so." 

Ilmr held out her book to him.  "Here.  It is about the Cailean." 

He regarded the spine; a text from Alfheim, if the language was any indication. "Strange.  For all our ties with the realm, I have not heard of the breed or seen it's like before." He motioned to the high shelves. "A feat in itself, given Asgard's collection and my voracious literary appetite." 

"I am not entirely surprised.  The book was hard to come by, even for one with familial ties to Alfheim.  As I said - the dwarves are notoriously secretive and possessive.  What little is known of the Cailean has been gleaned from the few that have been sighted throughout the years.  Vidar is the only one of his kind to have been smuggled out of his home Nidavelir in recent memory, from what I know.  The rock trolls that pilfer them, supposedly, is just that - supposition.  None have been sighted with one of Vidar's kind in tow.  If my mother's family knew this book was missing from their library, it would cause great conflict." 

"You took it anyway?"  

She shrugged. "I needed it.  They wanted it for historical purposes, for dust collection and posterity.  I needed it because of Vidar.  I left a fair copy behind, but if anyone were to look too closely, they would know much information was missing." 

Oh, but she was shaping up perfect for his plans. "Why?" 

She smiled, glancing about before leaning forward slightly, speaking quietly. "I will not risk his safety, mostly.  But Vidar is proving to be not only outstandingly loyal and protective, he is worth his weight in battle.  If I could, I would venture back and take several more pups with me.  If I could build a battalion of soldiers with companions such as Vidar, it would be a force few could withstand.  Even at his young age and without his full height, he is a foe to reckon with."

And so ambitious. "What do you mean?" 

She took the book back, flipping through until she came to the right passage, pointing it out. "They are quick healers and do not injure easily." She shifted. "Here, touch his back; he is muscular because we train, yes, but a large part of that is due also to his heritage - they are naturally akin to stone walls." 

Loki hesitated slightly as he reached a hand out. At her indication, Vidar visibly relaxed and turned his head to the side, allowing the contact.  Loki smiled at the touch.  The fur was not as thick as it appeared, though it was coarse.  He pressed slightly and felt no give.  "You speak truly - he is naught but a hound-shaped wall of muscle." 

She nodded. "He is.  Since he was a pup he's been that way." 

"Are they all the same hue?" 

She glanced up to him from Vidar and Loki saw a glint in her eye that he could not place until she spoke. "Would you want to seek one out for yourself?" 

Mischief.  He allowed a small version of the larger grin he felt.  "I do not believe that would be behavior befitting a princess and a member of the royal guard." 

"The last time I went I was a princess not yet in exile.  And you know as well as I do that drill practice is only twice weekly.  I have three more days until we drill again; Cuyler has not yet decided what to do with me, so for now I will attend drills and once he has decided upon an appropriate task for me, I will be set to it between those days in the arena."

He was still smoothing the fur on Vidar's side, the animal now looking him over but not making a sound.  Loki nodded after a minute's silent contemplation.  "Alright, yes.  When?" 

"Tonight.  After the evening meal we’ll take our leave."  She glanced out the window at the sun's setting.  "Is that enough time for you?" 

He nodded. "And who will go with us?" 

"No one." She replied rather too quickly, Loki thought.  "The larger our group, the more likely we will be detected and dwarves are canny; they would find us sooner than you think - they are impressively watchful, given their history with the rock trolls.  And if we were to bring back too many pups at once, it would be cause for alarm.  I don't believe folk in Asgard would take kindly to the two of us stirring up discontent among realms." 

He nodded. "Fair enough." He removed his hand from Vidar's back.  "He will help us sniff out a companion?" 

"Absolutely not.  I will not risk losing him in Nidavelir."  She gave him a scratch under his chin.  "He will stay behind this time.  Once we are back, he will be of use helping to teach the pup how to behave." 

Loki nodded, unfolding himself as he stood. "I will meet you at the Bifrost shortly after dinner has ended."  

"Once folk are just drunk enough, yes."  She waved away the proffered book. "Keep it, you will want to do some reading, before tonight." 

***** 

A/N:  This chapter was originally combined with the next, but I chopped them in two when I realized I was hovering around the thirty-page mark.  But that just means you get two Loki-point-of-view chapters in a row, and how can that possibly be a bad thing? The song at the beginning of this chapter is “The World Is Not Enough” by Garbage.


	4. Chapter 4 - Destructive When They're Young and Bored

**Chapter Four – Destructive When They’re Young and Bored**

A/N: I know, two in one day, but like I said, this chapter and the one before were originally one big chapter until I realized how big it had gotten.  This is a bit more action-filled.  Definitely sets up some important plot points for later on.  And Vidar gets a tiny, mischievous friend!  I stuck with Garbage’s “The World Is Not Enough” for continuity. And how awesome a song it is.

 

_People like us_  
 _Know how to survive_  
 _There's no point in living  
_ _If you can't feel alive_

 

Heimdall looked between the two and Loki wondered for a moment if he would think it a more foolhardy venture than some of Thor's expeditions.   

"We wish to travel to Nidavelir." Ilmr smiled up at the ever-watchful gatekeeper.   

"What should we expect to find there, Heimdall?" 

The massive gatekeeper turned to watch Loki.  Somehow it always felt as though he was being looked _through_ and it made Loki feel uncharacteristically self-conscious.  "No war yet, but the dwarves are restless and the rock trolls patrol their borders.  Do not expect calm and do not let your guard down.  Be as inconspicuous as possible."  

Ilmr stepped in next to Loki and nodded.  "We're ready when you are."   

Loki enjoyed the feeling of traveling through the Bifrost.  It was a stomach-at-your-throat adrenaline rush. He glanced to Ilmr when the air solidified around them in Nidavelir.  She had her back to him and her hands hovering by her belt of knives that rested on her hips.   It was hard to see much, the grass was tall and dark, as though it grew by swampland.  The great expanse in front of them was broken up by hills and in the distance, huge, snow-covered mountains surrounded by dense tree cover that stretched miles ahead of the roots of the mountains. 

She relaxed a fraction seeing and hearing nothing near them.  "We will need to head east, Cailean prefer the denser, wooded areas of the land at the foot of the mountains."   

Loki glanced eastward and nodded slightly.  The mountains were several leagues in the distance.  "We'll be back in Asgard by tomorrow evening." 

She nodded, voice soft and velvet as she spoke quietly. "Likely.  Sooner, if we find a pack closer than anticipated.  Later, if we don't and you are truly set on finding one, or we get caught up waiting out a conflict." 

Loki glanced at her as they walked.  If she had not spoken, he would not have realized she was beside him, so quiet was her footfall.  "How many weapons did you bring?"  He realized her hands were still hovering close to her hips. 

She spared him a glance.  "Enough. Nidavelir is deceptive - it seems very quiet and peaceful but it isn't true.  Dwarves will not harm us, if they think we are just passing through seeing the sights of the Nine Realms, but they will most certainly demand reparation if they find out we are here for the Cailean.  If the rock trolls find us..." she smiled slightly. "I am sure you know well the behavior of rock trolls." 

He nodded. "Have you been back since you were here with your brother?"   

"No."

It was all she offered.  Silence was preferred and while he was glad of it, it was a strange adjustment, to be on a quest without the incessant chatter of one of the Warriors Three or Sif or his brother.  He enjoyed it.  He could focus and better take in the realm as they walked. 

An hour into their walk, Ilmr's outstretched arm brought him up short. "Get out of sight.  Now." 

He narrowed his eyes at her for her order, but she was pulling him along to an outcropping of rock some one hundred yards away before he could snap at her for it.  When she stopped them he opened his mouth to speak and found she covered his mouth with her hand. He could feel his anger building.   

She put a finger to her lips, mimicking the gesture with the hand against his mouth.  She smelled of vanilla.  Just as he glanced away to spy what she had, he felt the faint rumbling of the earth underfoot.  Rock trolls.  He silently thanked her elven senses.  It took nearly fifteen minutes before the trolls were near enough to clearly hear and see.  Loki hastily cast a spell and he and Ilmr vanished from sight.   

He smiled seeing her quizzing look as she noticed his movement out of the corner of her eye.  He covered his eyes with one hand to indicate their invisibility.  They would still need to be silent, but they could at least now move undetected.  She removed her hand from his shoulder where it had fallen and stood, nodding in the direction of the mountain.   

Carefully, Loki followed.  Once they were half a league away from the trolls, he let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.  He glanced to Ilmr; she was as stony as before, but now her body was tense, eyes seemingly straight ahead.   

It was another two hours before the tree line came into sight.  She crouched down as they closed what distance they were from trees, moonlight casting her features in shadow and silver.  "There's a pack nearby."  She pointed to the track in the grass leading away and into the forest.   

He nodded. Glancing around, he saw other signs, now that he knew what signs to look for.  He tapped her shoulder once and headed slightly north of their eastward trajectory.  Since the rock trolls, they both seemed to silently agree to speak only when necessary.  Two rock trolls were likely a scouting party and so they would need to be on guard to avoid stumbling into a skirmish or a camp.  

Ilmr rose and followed behind him, glancing into the trees as they approached.  They were less than ten yards away from entering the forest when he heard a noise just as Ilmr's head whipped to one side so quickly Loki startled.  He had yet to get used to how quick her reflexes were, even given his own speed and agility.  She grabbed his wrist and yanked hard enough to pull him off balance.  He nearly toppled her; as it was they had stepped over the other's feet.  Before he could properly glare at her, a muzzle that looked to be the size of Vidar's head came into view, snapping shut where Loki had just been.   

Loki looked at her wide-eyed.  He knew he could not ask with the animal so close, it would hear him, even if it couldn't see him.  He was fascinated.  She was right - Vidar would get bigger.  Much, much bigger.  Loki wasn't sure where the hound would live when he got to be his full size.   

Ilmr shoved him into the forest when she realized he was too busy staring in awe at the behemoth.   

" _What_  did you think you were doing?!"  She rounded on him, whispering harshly when they were far enough out of earshot that she felt comfortable.  They had likely lost the tracks, though he couldn't imagine they would be too hard to find again. 

He smirked. "Staring, I've never seen a hound that size.  Vidar will get that big?" 

"No, I don’t think his sire and dam were that big. That's a female, her mate must be truly massive.  There must be pups around, otherwise she would likely have heard us and simply avoided us." 

" _That_  is smaller than Vidar might be?" 

Ilmr smiled.  "Now do you see why I want them for Asgard's forces?" 

"Where would we house them all?" 

She gave him a grin too innocent to be innocent. "You mean you don't have room in your chambers?" 

Loki would not give her the satisfaction of a smile yet.  "So there are pups nearby, you said.  Where?" 

Ilmr nodded.  "Very young, too, if she didn't follow us.  Getting out will be much more difficult, we won't be able to keep the pup quiet and she'll likely notice it missing."  She gave him a wicked smile.  "I hope you have energy enough to run back to the Bifrost.  With your enchantment the rock trolls won't see us, and neither would any dwarves, but she won't need her sight to be at our heels." 

"Let's be brief, then."  He circled the air by his right ear, amplifying the sound that entered as he strove to hear the whimpers and snuffling of young pups.  He cast his eyes around for any signs of tracks from the female they had just seen.   

Ilmr studied the ground and trees, carefully stepping over underbrush.  They were farther off track than he had thought, judging by the deep furrow in her brow.   

Glancing skyward, Loki righted himself, beginning to work his way northeast again, Ilmr trailing just behind him.  It was half an hour before they stumbled upon any sign of the Cailean again, a large tuft of fur caught on a branch that had been snapped backward.  The animal's shoulder had to be half Loki's height again, if the broken branch and fur were any indication.  They were heading straight towards the den of trouble and teeth the size of his hand, if his memory from their brief encounter served him.  He felt a thrill rush through him at the thought.   

He snapped out of his reverie when he heard what she did not a moment later, eyes meeting and horrified. Without waiting, he grabbed her wrist and ran through the trees.  The sound of heavy paws on the ground behind them had them forcing to dodge through various trunks and under branches.  They must have been closer to the pups than they thought.  Loki took her through enough twists and turns that the sound of the heavy paws faded eventually.   

They doubled back with as much stealth as they could muster.  It took even longer than before to find their trail again.

All at once, Ilmr dropped to her knees, her voice an excited whisper.  "Pick one!"  

For a moment, Loki thought she had fallen and he searched her face wildly before seeing her hands uncover a small den, large enough for only the tip of the mother's nose to get through, to expose eight pups that looked barely more than a few months old, by Cailean standards.  "The--" he turned slightly hearing the paws again, much closer than expected. Reaching his arms down, he grabbed a pup in one arm and Ilmr's elbow with the other, rushing headlong back through the forest.   

Loki could feel the mother hound's breath on his back as they ran, her growl resonating in his chest.  He cast a barrier behind them, smiling to himself hearing and feeling the vibration of it as the monstrous animal slammed into it with all of her force.  Ilmr let out a breath of a laugh.   

Her smile died on her lips moments later, eyes urgent and cheeks flushed with excitement and anticipation. Loki was halfway to asking what she sensed when he felt it - the ground underfoot felt like an earthquake.  The sound of the Cailean hitting his barrier had caught the attention of a battalion of rock trolls that were somewhere nearby.   

"Run. -Run!"  She gave his shoulder a shove as she took her own advice and they picked up speed, racing across the grasslands, still so many leagues from the Bifrost site he could not see it on the horizon.  They could both run the distance, but he was confident there were other camps brimming with rock trolls between they and the Bifrost.  They could very well be cut off and cornered.   

He found his suspicion to be correct not half a league later.  Loki still had them wrapped in a spell so they could not be seen, but with the alarm being raised from camp to camp, the rock trolls would likely try to gather by any means of entry or exit.   

Loki sent another barrier out behind them to close off the trolls from advancing.  "Stay close, Ilmr.   They will try to block off our access to the Bifrost; we won't get more than one chance to exit through that portal before they swarm it.  Heimdall will not transport us if our enemies are too close." 

She nodded.  He could see the tension in the thin line of her mouth. "I will be ready." 

******

Loki was glad he did not wear his heaviest armor.  By the time they reached the Bifrost more than an hour later the rock trolls were nearly on their heels, despite his many barriers; there were simply too many from too many different directions for him to be able to contain them all.  Ilmr was barely ten paces behind him, his longer legs affording him greater strides. 

He stretched an arm out to Ilmr as he shouted.  "Heimdall!"   

Rather than feel her grasp his arm, Loki heard Ilmr's gasp and angry groan as he watched her crash to the ground, a rock troll gripping to her ankle, his hand squeezing hard as if to crush the bone.  Loki noticed Bifrost began to shimmer around him and the rest of the rock trolls nearly upon them.   

With a ferocious yell, Ilmr kicked back with all of her force, striking the troll square in the face hard enough that he loosed his grip.  She threw herself up and away towards Loki.  She latched on to his arm just as the Bifrost activated.    

When they felt the floor of the observatory under their feet, they both stumbled slightly from stopping so abruptly after running most of the night.  A quiet laugh bubbled up out of her as she caught her balance. 

"Thank you, Heimdall." Ilmr inclined her head to the gatekeeper, who nodded gravely in return.  She started for the palace with Loki as the first light of dawn crept over the horizon.   

Loki watched her out of the corner of his eye.  If the troll had done damage to her leg, she did not act as if it bothered her.  "Are you--" 

"--What's his name?"  She looked to the inky tuft of fur in his arms.   

He shut his mouth around his question, answering hers instead.  "I haven't thought of one yet. I was a little distracted."   

"Think quickly" She smiled.  "When we rise, we'll set aside time for Vidar to meet him."  She thought quietly a few moments.  "He and Vidar should spend several hours each day together, in fact --at first, with us present, but after the first few meetings, they will be able to be left alone together while we attend our own duties." 

Loki nodded, walking along with her in silence for several minutes before deciding.  He was distracted by how well this little Cailean pup would serve his greater plan for seizing the throne.  "Fenrir." 

She smiled, giving the midnight-colored fuzz a gentle pat.  "Fenrir.  Hello." 

***** 

At her instruction, Loki set Fenrir down in a basket she had lent him from her chambers, lining it with blankets.  They needed to be kept very warm, their first year of life.  He pulled the basket into his bed, as well, piling his blankets high on top of the pup as an added measure.  He opened the book she had give him and picked up where he had left off, somewhere in the middle of the history of the animals, and flipped to the details regarding their early years.   

Fenrir was making whimpering noises with increased frequency and it was beginning to drive him crazy.  Loki picked up the basket and teleported to Ilmr's balcony. 

" _Why_ is he--Oh, my." Loki spun as quickly as he could to have his back to her.  He was not so quick or desperate to forget what he had inadvertently seen.   

"By Odin, Loki!" Ilmr was quick to duck behind a privacy screen.  "The teleporting needs to cease.  Or at least announce yourself from the balcony before entering." 

He still had his back to her; he was not going to make the same mistake twice regardless of whether he wanted to.  "How did you not know I was there?"  

"I can't hear you _teleport_ , I can only hear you once you've arrived.  I'm not exactly expecting a visitor when I'm just out of the bath."  She smiled wryly. "I will have to be on guard at all times now, I suppose."

"You heard rock trolls and one of the Cailean before I did, even with an enchantment to enhance my hearing.  I do not believe you." 

"I am dressed." She sighed.  She stepped from behind the screen in a deep violet dressing gown. "What is it?" 

He turned around to face her and held out the basket with a whimpering Fenrir, who was now near-howling.  Vidar had noticed and was carefully sniffing the basket but not getting too close yet.  "He will not cease his noise." 

"Oh honestly!" She crossed the room in a huff, carefully plucking the pup from the basket and holding him against her, gently scratching his ears and chin and petting his back slowly.  She nuzzled him before looking to Loki again. "You need to show him some attention and affection, Loki!  He's a baby, yet."  She held Fenrir out carefully, allowing Vidar to sniff the pup, holding him against her again only when Vidar's curiosity was satisfied. 

"You will keep him here until that maddening behavior ends." 

Ilmr scoffed. "Absolutely not." 

Loki turned back from his march towards her door.  "I will not get a thing done with him in such a state constantly." 

"He is your charge.  If you want him to bond with me -if you want me to _keep_  him- I will gladly do so."  She stepped forward and carefully forced Fenrir back into his hands.   

Loki fumbled slightly, doing an admirable job of keeping a disgruntled look about him when he accidentally grazed the side of a breast as he took the pup back from her.  She did not seem to notice or bother acknowledging it if she did.  "So what do I do with him?" 

"Care for him.  When he cries, be sure he does not need to relieve himself.  Give him attention and play with him, pet him.  Especially at night; he will be unused to being alone for the first few weeks, he’s still used to sleeping cuddled with his siblings.  I found that keeping Vidar close to me helped him adjust very quickly." 

"What should I feed him?"  Loki had gotten through what they ate in the wild, but it did not sound particularly practical for domestication.  He felt, for one of the few times in his life, as if he hadn't thought through a decision.   

"Raw meat and vegetables are best; some grain.  We will take them out a few times a week into the woods and Vidar can teach him how to hunt too so that when you are unable to feed him from the table he can fend for himself and help feed you as well." 

He changed his mind.  He had thought this through better than he realized.  It struck him again that Fenrir would need to spend a great amount of time with Vidar while he was young and, therefore, Loki with Ilmr.  It was the perfect excuse to keep her from his brother and his friends and get her positioned perfectly for her place in his plan.  "I should be able to manage." 

"Good. For now though, get some sleep and give him some attention.  It will be good for both of you."  She didn't wait for a reply to turn and head towards her bed, blowing out candles as she went. 

He clenched his jaw around a reply and instead teleported back into his bedroom.  He set the basket back down on his bed and resettled the blankets.  Resting his chin on a fist, Loki watched the pup.  "Affection…" he reached out hesitantly and carefully laid his hand on the frizzy, fuzzy head and gently pet from the crown of his head down his back.   

Fenrir was bigger than he expected; Loki had assumed much of his size was fur. But for all the fur he had, he was not much smaller than he looked.  Ilmr had been right, though: even at such a young age, there was nothing fragile about the hound.  He was a solid mass of muscle.   

Loki quickly discovered that Fenrir would lean into his hand if he scratched just right slightly below his left ear.  It made Loki smile in a way he realized he hadn't in many years.   

He woke to the sound of a servant knocking on his door.  He didn't realize he had fallen asleep, but Fenrir was still unconscious, a paw far bigger than the rest of him shoved between two of Loki's fingers.   

"Enter!"   

A maid bustled in, bringing his morning tea.  "Breakfast is laid out, my lord; the King and Queen are expected in the banquet hall within the hour." 

He nodded, rubbing his face and waving the maid away.  He heard Fenrir shift and his eyes went wide.  He rushed the pup outside not a moment too soon, apparently.   

Placing Fenrir back in his basket, Loki swept off to breakfast after conjuring a change of clothes and smoothing his hair.   

"Mother." He took his customary seat diagonally across from Frigga, tucking into his plate.   

"Loki, you're awfully hungry this morning." Frigga smiled curiously at her younger son, watching him eat an amount of food at a speed she hadn't seen since he was a boy.   

"Mm." He swallowed hastily.  "So it seems, I--" 

"--Where is he?"  Ilmr had apparently arrived, and she sounded rather panicked. 

Loki cringed internally. Frigga glanced between them as she spoke. "Good morning, Ilmr.  Loki, where is…who?" 

He stood quickly, grabbing Ilmr's arm discreetly as he gave his mother a grin. "A jest, mother." He pulled her from the room before Frigga could say anything else.   

Once out of the hall, Ilmr wrenched her arm out of his hold. "Where is he?" 

"Discretion, Ilmr!  He is in my chambers." 

She sprinted towards Loki's doors.  Throwing them open, she smiled grimly.  Loki was aghast.   

Fenrir, small, soft Fenrir, had created a tornado in Loki's room.  Feathers floated in the air and the tea setting was overturned on the floor.   

"Fenrir!" The pup didn't look up at his name as much as the noise, and Loki was in front of him in an instant, using his size and anger to make the pup cower.  Loki twisted his palm and the room was cleaned, leaving the pup even more shaken, seeing so much disappear in front of him.  He started to whimper.   

Loki wanted to discipline him further, to teach him how wrong he was in what he had done, but he found himself instead crouching down and lifting Fenrir in his arms.   

"If you're going to leave him alone, especially so young, you should black him in somewhere and give him something to occupy himself with.  A bone, maybe.  They’re very destructive when they're this young and bored." 

"Like you were as a child, my son."  Frigga smiled as both Ilmr and Loki turned, horrified looks fixed on their faces.  She couldn't help but laugh.  "If you thought I would not follow you, you do not know me, Loki.  Is this why you are so hungry today?  An excursion to…" 

"Nidavelir, my Queen." Ilmr bowed her head slightly. 

Frigga nodded.  "I imagine he will get to be the same size as your Vidar, Lady Ilmr." 

"Probably bigger, Fenrir's paws are bigger than Vidar's were at this size." She glanced to Loki.  "You saw the size of his mother.  Fenrir will be monstrous." 

"And you both think that this is a good idea, to have two such creatures in the palace?" 

Loki nodded.  "Yes, mother.  Fenrir will be as well-behaved as Vidar.  They will be unobtrusive." 

"If I may, my Queen, I think I may be able to allay some of your fears.  Fenrir will be an asset; he will be as fiercely loyal as Vidar and will offer great protection - not just to Loki, but to any Loki instructs him to protect.  He will be a companion and a benefit to Loki in battle." 

"Loki needs no more advantages on the battlefield." Frigga's grin was somewhere between rueful and proud.  He felt a flush of anger and affection.   

He watched a confused expression settle over Ilmr's face.  "I don't understand."

"Loki's magic is powerful, Ilmr.  With it, and his skill on the battlefield, he needs no more advantages than he already has." 

"He may not, but what of those he would seek to protect, his people or his soldiers? Would Fenrir not be useful?  Perhaps it is different in Asgard, but in Vanaheim we afford ourselves all the advantages we can get." 

"We are not in Vanaheim, my dear."  Frigga glanced to her son.   

Loki had watched the exchange in silence; if his mother did not approve of the pup, his father would have it cast out, likely along with Ilmr and Vidar for putting the idea in Loki's head to begin with.  His plan would be set back so far he felt he already had trouble seeing the crown.   

"Mother, please.  Indulge me.  Do you not think a companion would be good for me?  You often mention my solitude." 

Frigga raised her eyebrows a fraction.  "I think you already have one, my son."   

She took her leave before either could reply. 

*****

It had been nearly two weeks and Fenrir was growing at an alarming pace.  Loki felt as though he could not keep him fed; the plates of food he produced, piled high with meats, were devoured and Fenrir would pick up his eyebrows at his master as if to ask if that was all there was.   

Loki had never been so glad for his magic; while Ilmr had to carry several plates back to her quarters, Loki was able to conjure as many plates as Fenrir desired.  Odin still did not know of the pup and his mother had not yet warmed entirely to the idea.  Loki was determined to keep Fenrir from Odin until it was too late.  Loki was unsure when “too late” was: when he was too big to remain hidden, when Loki was sure he was well-behaved enough to present, when he could sneak him into battle and bring him to his father’s attention after Fenrir had proved himself too useful to abandon. 

Ilmr was a frequent companion in the weeks since the venture to Nidavelir; he was glad of her knowledge and cherished her quiet.  She spent several hours each day training, whether it was with Asgard’s forces or on her own.  Another great chunk of time was spent with himself, Fenrir, and Vidar.  She did not take after her mother’s side much in appearance, but she had a keen way with animals that was unmistakably elven.  Fenrir was willful and Loki was unsure that he would have been able to control him without his magic if she had not been there to direct him.  

“Vidar was no less stubborn at that age, he is simply testing his boundaries, he will stop soon enough, just continue to be consistent.” 

Loki sighed.  He had found Fenrir attempting to gnaw one of his favorite rugs to shreds when he noticed a stray string Loki had not.  Despite his attempts, the pup would not be swayed.   He also had a penchant for trying to convince Loki to share any meals he took in his chambers, regardless of whether Loki had already fed him.  

“How _long_ must I be consistent?”

She smirked.  “His whole life.  They are remarkably intelligent, but Fenrir will still look to you for direction if he feels himself unsure.  You must be consistent, and it begins now – any habits you do not want to encourage, you must work to eradicate.  Any you want to encourage, you must foster. “ 

“How long did it take you?” 

“Some things did not take Vidar as long as others.  He was housebroken very quickly.  Teaching him to fight took many years, but it started small, as all things will.” 

“I do not know how you mean, in this way.” 

She watched him quietly a moment as she thought of how to explain.  Over the course of the few weeks she had been present in Asgard, Loki had grown accustomed to her gaze.  His initial aversion had been more about a lack of familiarity with more than a passing glance from folk than discomfort.  As Thor's younger brother, and the Dark Prince, as the nickname went, he was typically afforded little more.  

Ilmr stood and took several large steps back.  Snapping her fingers, the ever-watchful hound stood and waited for her next command.  Instead of a hand signal, she dropped into a smooth crouch, one leg bent underneath her, the other outstretched.  One hand was behind her as if reaching for a weapon, the other was angled across her body defensively.   

Vidar immediately placed himself beside Ilmr, crouched in a playbow that was anything but playful: teeth bared, hackles raised and shifting slightly on his haunches as if ready to pounce at her word.   

Instead, she gave a sharp, short whistle, and he relaxed, sitting down instead and tilting his head back to see his master.   

She gave him a pat.  "It isn't a stance he would naturally fall into at a word, like sitting or laying down.  But, if you break it down," She turned to Vidar and took him briefly through the various parts: standing in front of her, bowing, baring his teeth.  "Once he has all of those, take him through them one after the other so they become a smooth move.  As you do, give it a name or a command, and praise him for it.  -You did not have pets, did you?" 

"No, they were not deemed seemly, for princes." 

Ilmr made a face.  "I see why you are loathe to bring him far unconcealed."   

She had put up a particularly large fuss when she discovered Loki carrying Fenrir to and from the stables when they would go out into the clearing, or when he concealed him with an enchantment. 

"When can we begin to teach Fenrir such things?" 

"When he has mastered the art of sitting _and_  staying." 

It was true; Fenrir was proficient at sitting.  He was too excitable to stay still for long, however.  "And then we can teach him?" 

"Then we can begin teaching him to come, to heel, to hunt, some defensive stances and eventually, play fighting." 

Loki raised his eyebrows.  "All this in a year's time?" 

"Much of it, yes.  Some of it - the defensive stances and play fighting will take longer." 

A knock at Loki's chamber doors interrupted.  Sweeping Fenrir into his arms, Loki quickly deposited him in the basket he had settled behind his fireplace grate.   

"Brother." Loki had reached his doors in few strides, giving Thor a cursory once-over.   

"Brother!" Thor gave a slight nod to Ilmr.  "Lady Ilmr!  I have come to call on you to attend the arena with me.  I would very much like to spar with you." 

Ilmr rose fluidly, giving Thor a smile.  Loki grit his teeth.  Of late, his brother and his friends had been increasingly calling upon Ilmr while she was away with Loki.  So much so, that he felt it was not only purposeful, but beginning to interrupt Fenrir's training.  It would have to end, this constant distraction.   

"I would be honored, my lord.  Would you allow me until noon?  I have some matters I must still settle beforehand." 

"Of course! And please, Ilmr, indulge me - do not bring your practice sword." 

She smiled wide.  "I won't."   

Loki whirled on Ilmr once he had shut the door behind his brother.  "He would use Mjolnir." 

"I know." 

Loki narrowed his eyes at her.  "You are not strong enough to beat him." 

"I know."  She had retrieved Fenrir and currently had him snuggled up to her chest and face.  If it was one thing Loki was grateful for, it was these moments.  He was not shown much physical affection as he grew, and so giving Fenrir affection was as difficult as disciplining him, for Loki.  By watching Ilmr, he was learning the fine line between too much and too little discipline, and how to comfort the ever-growing pup.   

"You are truly mad." 

She placed Fenrir in Loki's arms.  Her skin was always so warm compared to his own, even her fingers, when they brushed his during moments like these.  "I do not need to be stronger than him, Loki.  You know that as well as I.  I just need to be faster and more cunning.  That, I am." 

The corner of Loki's mouth lifted.  He had come to truly enjoy her company in the few short weeks she had already been present in Asgard.  He found that she thought similarly about many things.  She was shrewd and calculating and she disliked the great noise and to-do of many of the Aesir and most noticeably, his brother, though she seemed to have affection for the oaf regardless.  It was good, he decided.  If he was going to have her on his side -at his side- then he was glad that she seemed like someone whose presence he could bear.   

She seemed to be trusting of him.  If she minded the time she spent with him, she did not show it.  She was patient as he fell into a routine with Fenrir.  She did not ask anything in return.  This still made him suspicious, but he could do nothing about it, at least not now.   

"…Loki?" 

"My apologies." 

She smiled.  "I said while I was sparring with Thor, you should practice some more with Fenrir." 

"Oh, no.  I will not miss this.  Other than myself, few have the chance of besting Thor." 

"You think I could?" She leveled her gaze at him, a curious glint in her eye. 

"I think you have the best chance, aside from myself.  You may rank lower than Sif, but you are the better fighter." 

Ilmr laughed.  "Don't let her hear you say that." 

Loki let out a breath of a laugh.  He found that she smiled more when he did it, seemed to trust him a little bit more each time, as if she thought she was breaking through to him and getting him to trust her.  "She already dislikes me, there is little more I could do to further raise her ire." 

"Oh, I don't know.  She seems to be quite jealous." 

"Sif is as belligerent as my brother." 

"No, I mean that I think she is jealous of _me_." 

Loki raised an eyebrow.  "Has she been rude?"  He did not care either way, but he needed her to rely on him.  He needed to appear as though he would not stand for any to be unkind to her.   

"No, certainly not." Ilmr laughed.  "I mean she seems to be jealous of the time I spend with you.  She always has a comment of some sort that I think she believes to be subtle." 

"I do not think Sif, of all people, would be jealous of your time with me.  Likely, she is trying to get you to spend less time in my company." 

"That's ridiculous."   

This tone was something that began to show itself earlier in the week, seemingly out of nowhere.  She did not seem to like the fact that Loki was kept on the outer fringes of the court and his 'friends'.  A little more time, Loki estimated, and he could begin to cautiously advance in the way a potential suitor might and have a chance of success. Or at least leave with all limbs intact. 

"Do not worry overlong, Ilmr.  I certainly don't.  You should instead worry about how you'll best my brother in half an hour's time." 

"Half an hour?"  Her eyes went wide at this.  Snapping her fingers, she gathered up the few things she had brought with her to Loki's chambers.  "I still need to get into my armor."  She tossed him a glance over her shoulder, Vidar following behind. "Wish me luck." 

"You will not need it."

 


	5. Chapter 5 - I Will Always Be Victorious

**Chapter Five – I Will Always Be Victorious**

_No more stressing me out, pulling me down_  
 _Making me feel like I’m better off lonely_  
 _I’m gonna be fearless  
_ _And take care of my business_

 

She was nearly late to the arena.  Vidar was particularly persistent in his desire to go with her.   With much guilt, she managed to keep him in her chambers.   

By the time she arrived, it seemed that many had caught wind of the sparring about to take place.  Glancing around, she noticed that Loki was leaned casually against the barrier.  Or, what would appear casual.  To Ilmr, there was tension around his mouth, the set of his shoulders a little too straight.   

"Lady Ilmr! It seems we have drawn the curiosity of many!"  Thor's smile was a mile wide.  She had no doubt that he had invited at least half of the folk that were milling around.   

"So I see.  What are to be the rules of our contest?"   

"To the yield, my lady.  Disarmament is not cause for forfeit; only yielding will elicit a result." 

At this, Ilmr smiled wide.  He would not go easy on her.  This would be a good chance for her to prove herself further to her peers and more importantly, Commander Cuyler, who she had also noticed in the crowd.  "Perfect.  Whenever you are ready, my lord."  She drew her sword and moved into a defensive starting position. 

Giving her a wide, mischievous grin that reminded her of Loki, Thor raised Mjolnir and slammed it into the ground.  The shockwave sent her flying backwards off her feet, soaring several feet into the air.  She released her grip on her sword and used the momentum to flip herself backwards, landing on her hands and flipping herself upright.  Her sword was several feet away and Thor was advancing on her at a run, Mjolnir raised.  

She ran at him rather than away from him, sliding to the ground at the last moment to his left, while he brought Mjolnir down on his right, taking his legs out from under him.  Thor and his hammer landed hard.  Springing up, she dove for her sword, parrying a hit from the handle of his hammer at the last moment.  He was faster than his size belied.  Ilmr was still on her back, however, and while she was strong, she was not stronger than Thor and it would only be a matter of time before he placed the hammer's handle down over her throat and she was forced to submit.   

Taking a moment to gather the largest breath she could, Ilmr kicked out as she released the air from her lungs, knocking him off balance just enough for her to roll away and spring back to her feet, dancing backward several steps.  She did not need to overpower him, just tire him out.  She did not think she could beat him, but if she could get him to submit to a draw, she could consider herself victorious.  Anything other than loss was acceptable.   

Thor smiled at her as he righted himself, charging forward again.  She spun away just in time, giving his forearm the lightest of scratches with the edge of her sword as she did so.  Just deep enough to draw blood, but not so deep to hurt him or make it do more than bead on his skin.   

He laughed at this, a deep, booming sound that ricocheted around the arena.  He was delighted that she had caught him with the edge of her weapon, and it only seemed to spur him on further.   

Ten minutes later, he was still charging, and she was still deflecting.  She had nicked him a few more times; already the first scratches were healing up seamlessly.  That was something she envied of the Aesir - their ability to heal was unparalleled.  

As he charged again, she sidestepped.  Misjudging her distance from one of the pillars, she found herself pressed against it after two rotations instead of three.  His hammer came down hard on her sword hand, the weapon clattering to the ground, her whole arm going numb.  

She felt her knees buckle.  Her senses flooded with pain and she grit her teeth hard to keep from crying out; Thor had assumed he would miss her, she could tell by the look on his face when the hammer connected, and his surprise afforded her a moment while he stood absolutely still, awaiting her reaction.  The crowd had expected the hit no more than Thor, given their sudden silence when her weapon dropped. 

Whether he expected her to cry out or scream or crumple, he did not expect her to use the injury to her advantage.  She did crumple, but as she fell she rolled and kicked his legs out from under him again, taking an extra moment to stand.  She gave Thor a wicked smile, encouraging him to continue.  At his responding grin she pulled a throwing knife from her belt with her good hand, flicking it in his direction.  He blocked it with Mjolnir as he got to his feet.   

The crowd had cheered when she stood, but they were silent again now, watching Thor stalk her as a predator with his prey.  Without her sword hand, she had only her few throwing knives to aid her.  She would need to be more calculating and much swifter now.   

She was unsure who taught him to fight, but she suspected that whoever it was taught him hand-to-hand combat, to run at his opponents with Mjolnir raised, and no more.  He was graceless, but effective.  After her fourth throwing knife was deflected, she was without weapons.  She coaxed him towards her, hoping to get inside his guard long enough to land a blow to disorient him enough to buy her time to take up a weapon again.  Had the pain been less severe, she could have easily managed to wield her sword in her good hand.  Anleifr had taught her to be skilled with her weapon in both hands, so that she could not be truly incapacitated with an injury to one of her hands.  As it was, the force of the blow from this weapon afforded her a pain so strong it elicited a sharp pang even when she threw her knives with her good hand.   

Blocking a blow from Mjolnir, forearm against forearm, she stepped inside his guard and hit his chin as hard as she could with the heel of her hand.  He reeled backwards and she sprinted for her knives, managing to gather two of them.  

This was a dance they both continued for another half hour: Thor charging and swinging, both fists and hammer; Ilmr blocking and dodging, throwing a knife or affording him a sharp jab or swift kick.  At the end of the nearly hour-long spar, both were exhausted.  Ilmr breathed hard from both exhaustion and pain.  Forcing herself upright and blocking out the weakness in her knees, she readied herself for Thor's next assault.  Instead, he raised his hammer straight up over his head.   

"Enough, Lady Ilmr."  He laughed.  "We are both weary and I fear neither of us will claim a result this day." 

She nodded, smiling slightly.  "I believe you're right.  A draw, then?" 

"A draw!"  Thor let his voice carry throughout the arena so those watching could hear.  The crowd was larger now than it had been at the outset, and folk cheered to finally have a result after such an entertaining battle.  He lowered his voice to his normal volume as he turned his attention back to Ilmr. "We will need to spar again soon, that was much to my liking!" 

"Of course, my lord."   

Gripping each other’s forearms, they ended the trial, the crowd already dissipating. Thor marched off with a wide smile and a laugh to his friends.  Once most all had gone, Ilmr went about gathering her knives with her good hand.  Last, she approached her sword, which had been abandoned by one of the pillars in the arena almost a half hour previous.   

"I believe you need to see a healer, my lady." 

Ilmr turned her head.  She always delighted in Loki's frustration that he could not sneak up on her.  "I will; it was my sword hand, after all.  Commander Cuyler will not be pleased to find his newest recruit incapacitated, if I do not."  She gripped the sword in her left hand.  Setting her jaw against the pain, she fit it back into its scabbard.  "Did you enjoy it?" 

"It was indeed entertaining.  Though I did not enjoy my oaf of a brother's inattention." His tone was edged with steel at his latter observation.   

Ilmr had noticed in the time she had been in Asgard so far, that Loki was opening up to her, trusting her.  Since they returned from Nidavelir they had spent a fair amount of time together as she helped him get the feel for raising one of the Cailean.  Fenrir, he had called the little jet-black ball of fur.  He was terribly mischievous and smart, much like his master.   

Ilmr suspected that Fenrir was teaching Loki as much as Loki was teaching him.  The first night he had the pup, Loki had brought him to her flustered; he could not get the small thing to calm down.  It had never occurred to Loki that affection and attention were what the creature wanted.  Two weeks later, it appeared to be becoming second nature to Loki to pet the animal if it was nearby, to praise him for behaving and to be protective of him when it called for it, at his young age.   

It seemed to be extending elsewhere in his life, if his upset at Thor was any indication. Before his apology in the palace library a fortnight prior, his reaction to this sparring would have been cool indifference, perhaps a nod or a raised eyebrow.  Now, it seemed that her injury was sparking upset and concern.   

"The healers will be able to mend it quickly." 

To her surprise, Loki relieved her of her weapons. "Then we best hurry over.  It must hurt." 

She nodded.  "It does, some." 

He raised an eyebrow, glancing down at the hand she was holding against her stomach.  "Some?" 

"Very much."  She moved the hand down to her side at her realization that she was favoring it.   

He held the door into the healing room open for her, calling in ahead.  "Eir!  We will need your assistance immediately." 

The woman Ilmr assumed was Eir rushed over at Loki's tone.  "What has happened?" 

Ilmr gave Loki a nod in thanks before turning to Eir.  Loki would have Fenrir to get back to, by now.  "Mjolnir to the hand." Ilmr held up her right hand, which by now was all but black and had swelled enough that she could not flex her fingers at all.  

"Oh my!" Eir led her carefully by her left arm to an empty bed. "Let me see dear."   

Ilmr watched fascinated as a red map of her arm and hand sprang up just above the limb itself.  By the look of it, all of the bones had been shattered and the veins crushed. 

"Oh, dear.  This will not be pleasant."  She called over two of her apprentices, young women who looked to be half Ilmr's age, instructing them to get the necessary equipment for the mending and binding of Ilmr's hand.   

Eir was right: it was not pleasant.  It was about as painful as the initial blow, in fact.  After ingesting the small vial of liquid that tasted vaguely of comfrey, Eir began the healing process.  Ilmr watched fascinated, gritting her teeth as she felt the bones and tissue mend themselves and the veins inflate and slide back into place.  Her hand began to shrink back to a normal size and the skin lightened from black back to her normal pale tone. 

By the end of it, she felt beads of sweat roll down her temple from her hairline.  She focused on the apprentices binding her hand.   

"You will need to wear this for the next day to ensure the bones knit properly.  The majority of the repair has been done, but you will need the next day for them to set." 

"Of course." 

"And please do be more careful next time?" 

Ilmr smiled.  "Of course." 

She took a few minutes to settle herself before standing to leave.  While the comfrey concoction likely assisted the healing and pain, it was a strange sensation and despite the help of the liquid, very, very painful.  She had planned to take Vidar, with Fenrir and Loki, to the clearing to practice after sparring with Thor, but now she wanted nothing more than to sink into her bath with a book until it was time for the evening meal.   

She nearly ran into Loki as she stepped out of the healing rooms, she had not been expecting him there.  Her senses were clouded with enough pain that she faltered as she righted herself.  He braced her by a hand on her upper arm.   

"Finished already?" 

Ilmr held up her hand, the bandage covering her whole hand to just below her wrist, the fabric neatly wound between her fingers.  She could feel it stiffening already, the fabric having been dipped in another liquid one of Eir's apprentices had produced.  As it dried, it cooled and made her hand tingle.  "So it would seem.  It was a most unusual process." 

Loki smiled.  "So I have heard." 

"You've never needed the care of the healers?"  Ilmr started for her chambers as she spoke, wanting to sit down and rest. 

She was glad when Loki fell in step beside her.  "Not in a long time.  Five hundred years, or so." 

"You are more careful than I.  Or perhaps lucky." 

Loki grinned.  "I do have the advantage magic affords me, without which I'm sure I would have seen the inside of those rooms many times by now."   

Ilmr hummed, turning from the main hall onto the smaller offshoot that led eventually to the Lesser and Greater Halls.  "That is an advantage I wish I could claim.  I always did envy my siblings their abilities." 

"Did you?" He looked dubious.  He always did, when she mentioned his skill, or that of her siblings.  She could not blame him; after a millennia being told it was not a skill but a deception, something to quell, it must have been hard for him to accept that it could be considered a skill by any.  His mother saw it as a skill, she knew, but Ilmr also knew that Loki frequently discounted his mother in his estimations, simply because she was his mother.   

"I did.  Anleifr and Njordr were the family warriors, Anleifr because he was simply naturally gifted, and Njordr because he was tireless and infinitely strong; he is Mjolnir in the shape of a man, it often seems.  Unn has a voice that you have never heard the like of before.  You have read the Midgardian book _The Odyssey_ , which resides in the palace library, have you not?  It is her voice that the sirens imitate.  Her voice could make a man move mountains.  Or at least try to."  She laughed.  "And Skuld possesses the gift of foresight.  I always envied their skills:  I have none like them.  No tireless, endless strength, no voice that would make a man weep or fall to his knees before me, no ability to perceive that which is anywhere but before my eyes.  I have only my determination and hours unnumbered in an arena like Asgard's.  I always wanted a gift like theirs, I always felt as though they were more special for them; more rare and to be cherished." 

"What has Skuld seen for you?" He would do this often, she realized.  He would take in all of the information presented, but choose what seemed to be the least important bit and chase it, teasing out information he would not have otherwise gleaned had he been direct.   

Ilmr shook her head, finally turning with him left down the Lesser Hall towards her chambers.  "I have not asked." 

His eyebrows shot up.  "Not once?" 

"When I was younger, yes."  She pushed on the door to her room.  "But not in many centuries." 

"Why not?"  She was grateful that he had followed her in, as much as she wanted a bath and a book, she enjoyed their conversations and desperately wanted a distraction from the growing pain in her hand.  He shifted one hand and Fenrir came into view in his other that she realized he had not used once in their walk from the healing rooms.   

"For all that it is a gift, it is also a curse.  Foresight is complicated - it is not what will be, only what _may_  be.  It can be hard to differentiate between the things that are easily changed and the things that, no matter the effort, cannot be changed.  And from what I gather from hearing the council she has given my father in the past, it is less concrete and more a game of guessing - symbols and idols, double meaning and visions of items that have no meaning to her, but are as talismans to the person the vision indicates."  She poured them each a cup of tea from the setting that Loki conjured. 

"That is why you have not asked?" His gaze followed Fenrir and Vidar as they played.  She could not have been prouder of Vidar; he had not been around his kind since he was a pup, but he was so very gentle and careful and guiding with Fenrir.  

She sipped her tea.  "I have not asked in many centuries because the last time I did question her, I regretted it."  She furrowed her brow and sipped again. "What is this tea?" It had a subtle, acrid aftertaste. 

"Anleifr."  He sat forward to pluck grapes from the setting, forgoing the tea himself.  "And it will quell the pain." 

She nodded, smiling at his gesture.  "Thank you.  Ever since I returned from Nidavelir without him, I have been unable to decide if he would have perished there anyway, or if because I asked her to look, I acted in a way that brought about his demise.  But more importantly, if Skuld did not possess the gift, I would be unable to ask.  Since then, I have acted as though I cannot ask.  I admire her for the gift, it seems a great burden to bear, but I do not ask her to look into my future and tell me what she might see." 

"Is she offended?" 

Ilmr shrugged.  "I don't believe so.  At first, she was.  But when I found my courage and explained to her why I no longer asked, I think she understood.  She knew of the bond Anleifr and I had." 

Loki fell quiet, simply nodding.  Ilmr didn't think he understood.  Or if he did understand, she wasn't sure he knew what it felt like to have someone be as forthcoming.  It angered her, but since she had been in Asgard she had gathered that most of the realm's people - peasants, peers and high court- did their best to dodge him, to speak against him in a way that they felt was crafted in subtlety but was as a slap to the face.  Thor and his mother seemed to be the only exceptions, but even with Thor it seemed there was a distance between them. 

She knew what her own life as the family outcast had been like, and it had not bothered her overmuch.  Being a warrior was something she chose to do, but his magic was different.  As with her siblings and mother, it was something that was a part of him that he could no more deny than his intellect.  That he was cast out for his rarity, his skill, made her blood begin to boil in a way it hadn't since she was in her young hundreds. 

She sipped her tea quietly, realizing how heavy her eyelids were becoming.  Watching Loki stand, Ilmr felt as if she were in a haze.   

"Rest well, Ilmr.  You will feel better when you wake."  He took her teacup from her carefully and set it back on it’s saucer.  

As her eyes slid shut, she was aware of her door closing behind him as he took his leave.  

*****

"Princess!"  Commander Cuyler never failed to refer to her by her title regardless of how often she requested he disregard it.  He did it partially to make her uncomfortable, Ilmr was sure, but partially to try to invoke the notion that she was out-of-place and too prim and proper for the arena.   

She had attended the morning drills as usual, using her left hand rather deftly instead of her bandaged right, which seemed to frustrate the Commander to no end.  Ilmr had no doubt that she felt so much better because of whatever it was Loki had enchanted her tea with the day previous.   

She did not see the need to correct the Commander's assumption that she was impervious to the pain; she let him try to expose a weakness or visage of discomfort as he focused his harshest attentions on her.  If he wished to be ignorant, she would let him and make mental note of the knowledge for when the time came near for her to be named Commander herself.   

Standing to attention, she bowed slightly.  "Yes, sir?" 

"One hundred laps, two thousand push ups."  He smirked as he spoke, glancing to her bandaged hand only briefly.   

Ilmr inclined her head only marginally.  "It will be my pleasure, sir."   

Cuyler had increased her after-drilling exercise once he realized she had adjusted to the Asgardian heat and no longer seemed as bothered by the laps or push-ups.  None of the other recruits bothered to stay and watch her.  After the first laps-and-push-ups requirement when she showed no sign of her inner exhaustion, they lost interest.   

She ran around the arena at a pace just slower than a sprint.  She was in a hurry to get out to the clearing, as she hadn't had the chance the day before. Ilmr knew Loki was keeping Vidar company; letting Fenrir play with him and learn from him, but still she wanted to hurry back.   

She wasn't sure when the Commander's visible distaste would grow boring for him, but after nearly a month, she estimated she had at least a few more weeks before he lost interest entirely in the prospect of making her life marginally more difficult.  He had been present when she sparred with Thor, and Ilmr was sure that it was the better part of the reason for his current demand.   

Two hours later, arms slick with sweat under her vambraces, Ilmr dropped down carefully to begin the push-ups.  Two thousand push-ups.  One-handed, given Eir's warning from the day before about her almost-healed-but-not-quite right hand.   

At one thousand, nine hundred and sixty-seven, she heard the whisper of familiar footsteps.   

"Does he make you do this every time there is drilling?"  His frown was evident in his voice. 

Ilmr let out a breath of a laugh.  "One thousand, nine hundred and sixty-eight.  Keep counting.  And yes.  At least, so far." 

A hand came into her peripheral vision.  "That seems unnecessary.  I would have words with him." 

She shook her head but did not pause her movement.  "Absolutely not."  

The weight of a foot on her back halted her in the lowered position.  "This is madness.  I will speak to him about his manners." 

Sighing, Ilmr pushed out of the lowered position into her one thousand, nine hundred and seventy-third push-up.  He wasn't putting more than a light pressure on her back so she saw no reason not to continue.  "You will not speak to him, Loki.  Not about this.  If you wish to make my situation worse, then by all means.  But I am here for myself, undertaking this at my own behest.  I will not have anyone interfering on my behalf, lest it undermine me." 

She could feel the anger rolling off of him at her words.  His voice was dangerously low when he spoke.  "You will not tell m--" 

"--You would not allow me to speak to Odin on your behalf."   

She heard a quiet, frustrated growl issue from Loki.   

It was not until after her one thousand, nine hundred and ninetieth push up that he removed his foot and spoke again. "You are infuriating." 

It was not until she reached her final push up and stood that she bothered to grace him with a reply.  She was a head shorter than him, but met his piercing gaze before continuing quietly, a smile ghosting her lips.  "And you are insatiable.  Will you not let this lie?" 

For all the time they spent around one another in the past weeks because of Fenrir, Ilmr did not recall ever having placed herself so close to Loki before.  She tried not to smile wider at the fluster evident on his face; whatever he had expected, it wasn't such close proximity, and it surprised and amused her to no end that he seemed unnerved at all.  Of all of the emotions he would show or seem capable of, Ilmr did not think that would be one of them. 

He hesitated a moment longer than Ilmr thought he would.  He nodded almost imperceptibly.  "I will let it lie."

She had been expecting snark.  Something snide and clever.  She had not expected him to acquiesce.  Ilmr simply nodded in return.  "My thanks."  She stepped back, unbuckling her vambraces.  She tried not to make a face as they slid off her arms.  "If you would give me but half an hours time, I would be ready to head to the clearing." 

Loki closed the distance she had put between them and began to unbuckle her armor on her left side.  "A half an hour's time.  Fenrir and I will be ready." 

Ilmr watched him carefully as he worked, only moving to do her right side so that he could not.  His eyes were unusually green.  "Where is Fenrir now, by the way?" 

Loki smiled at this.  She noticed that of late, he smiled widest, if he smiled at all, when divulging Fenrir's latest successes.  "Sitting and staying where I left him by the entryway."   

"Truly?" Ilmr turned her head to see as she undid the last buckle.  She laughed in delight seeing the not-so-small, Fenrir-shaped fuzz by the walkway.  "He is..." she tugged the armor over her head, "...truly learning quickly.  And growing faster. Vidar took much longer to get to that size.  Fenrir will be truly monstrous."   She tucked the armor and vambraces under one arm as she walked towards the sitting hound.  

"His mother was frighteningly large."  Loki snapped his fingers twice quickly and Fenrir stood, jogging over quickly to greet his master.   

"She was.  She's the only fully-grown Cailean I've ever seen that wasn't in a book." 

Loki glanced to her as he walked down the myriad hallways with her.  She saw one of his hands twitch slightly, a motion she had come to realize meant he had cast an enchantment of some kind.  Fenrir disappeared from her sight.  He was getting too big and even Loki would be unable to carry him much longer.  "What of Vidar?" 

"I found him abandoned as I made my way back towards the Bifrost once the battle had ended and I realized Anleifr had passed.  I do not know how big his dam or sire were.  I can guess, given his size, but among different packs size can vary.  Fenrir seems to be bred from the largest of the animals, while I suspect Vidar is more of an average size." 

Outside her chamber doors Loki paused.  "Why did you agree to it, if you had not been back since his death?" 

Ilmr cleared her throat.  She had not been expecting the question.  "I will see you in a half hour's time, Loki." 

She did not give him another chance to pause her as she slipped into her chambers and shut the door behind her.  She did not have much time, but enough that she could scrub off the morning's effort.  The familiar scent of vanilla wafted through her room as she laid out her riding attire while the bath filled.   

It was difficult, for her to think of Anleifr.  He had not just been her father's favorite.  He was her favorite, and much like Thor in that he was the people's champion, but yet also kind and wise and more than a little wily.  Ilmr had been her father's only daughter for nearly three centuries and he had made it no secret that he had wanted another son if he could not have a daughter capable of the same magical abilities as her mother or Njordr.  Anleifr treated her at once as a sister and a daughter.   

She had never known a day worse than when Anleifr had died.  Returning home to tell her father of his demise and her subsequent familial exile was not so sharp a pain as his passing.  She was able to speak of it in strictly factual terms as though she were reporting back to her father after a war campaign.  She did not think of it or speak of it in any other way unless she was speaking it to the quiet and still of her rooms when she was finally alone at the end of the day those first few years after he was gone.  

She had not had an opportunity or desire to speak to another about it in any other terms, she realized as she sunk into her tub.  None had asked - her family did not want to know what she had to say for herself and Solveig had passed on by the time Ilmr was four hundred, an illness having taken her younger than it should have.  Loki had been the first to inquire and she found herself wholly without the faculties to speak of it beyond what she had already said to him.   

Ilmr was not sure what to make of Loki of late.  Since he had apologized a fortnight past, he had become gentlemanly, friendly, even.  She couldn't deny that a friend was a luxury she sorely missed, but she was unsure what had brought about his sudden change and why.  He did not seem to have many friends; his demeanor, skills and titles frightened many in Asgard.  Because he was not the noisy, boisterous, ale-loving person his brother was, perhaps.   

The Aesir seemed to feel uncomfortable with too much quiet, Ilmr had noticed.  The few peers she had spoken with did not know what to make of her own quiet; she despised small talk, and it seemed all they were capable of.  Even the handful of soldiers that would speak to her seemed to be on edge with her disinterest in babble.  She, at least, had the advantage of a lack of magical abilities.  They resented Loki for it, and it sparked anger in her. 

A faint knock at her door snapped her out of her reverie.  Hurrying out of the bath, she hastily tied the sash of her violet robe as she swept toward the door.   

She opened the door a crack then wider seeing who it was.   

Loki raised an eyebrow at her state of dress.  "Was half an hour not sufficient?" 

"Please, come in.  I lost track of time." 

"Tired after this mornings drills?" He didn't sound like he believed his question. 

"No, rather lost in thought.  The exhaustion won't come until after the evening meal, I don't think."   

He nodded, a mischievous glint in his eye as he peered through the books on her shelf, looking for something else to read now that he had finished the book detailing the Cailean.  "You don't plan on riding off in that, do you?  I daresay it would cause an uproar." 

She headed towards her privacy screen, talking over her shoulder as she went.  "Another time, perhaps."  She hastily shed the robe with one hand as she grabbed her riding clothes in the other. 

Loki chuckled.  The sound was closer than she anticipated and Ilmr realized he had approached the privacy screen, running the silky fabric of the robe she had just laid over the top of it between his fingers.  She hurried to lace her tunic.  "Is violet the color of your mother's house, or your father's?"  

Ilmr came around the other side of the screen now that she had dressed.  "My mother's."  An amused grin crept over her as she watched him toy with the fabric.  "Approaching a lady as she dresses, fiddling with her dressing gown," she glanced up to meet his eye, "One might think your behavior unseemly, my lord."  

She should have suspected the God of Mischief would attempt to compromise his position further, but yet she was still surprised when he leaned down closer to her.  He searched her eyes from a distance of mere inches, his voice quiet and low when he finally spoke.  "You don't."   

Ilmr held his gaze, unmoving.   

He straightened after another moment.  "Are you ready?" 

Being toyed with was not a pastime Ilmr had ever had interest in.  If this was his game, she would raise the stakes.  She would not be left off-balance.  He was fast, faster than most, but she was faster.  She leaned up and grasped the front of his long black greatcoat.  Ilmr pressed her lips against his in a chaste kiss, letting it end as quickly as it began and released her hold on his coat as she lowered herself back flat on her feet.   

"I am ready."  She gave him a smug smile as she stepped back. 

Ilmr turned towards the door and immediately had her perspective change as a hand came around her wrist hard and spun her back.  He was faster than her this time, in her surprise.  Loki kept his vice grip on her wrist as he crashed into her, capturing her lips in a hard kiss.  When he finally let it break, Ilmr felt his teeth graze her bottom lip.   

He graced her with a small but triumphant smile, leaning in next to her ear. His voice was as dark and silky as her robe as it wrapped around her.  "You should not trifle with me, Ilmr.  I will always be victorious." 

She hesitated only a moment, unable to help the smile in her voice. "I daresay that sounds like a challenge." 

He gave her wrist a tighter squeeze before releasing it.  "Good." 

***** 

They had spent the remainder of the day in the clearing outside the city. Vidar and Fenrir had enjoyed play-fighting with one another after they had worn out their respective masters.  Ilmr was pleased to see how much progress Fenrir was making.  How much Loki was making, though she didn't know if he could see it in himself.   

Now Ilmr sat facing her mirror putting her hair up into a more intricate, elegant knot than the one she had hastily tied after her bath earlier.   

Three short raps on her door announced a visitor.   

"Sif!" Ilmr smiled wide.  Since Loki had acquired Fenrir, she hadn't spent much time with anyone else as she taught Loki what he needed to know to raise the pup successfully.   

"I was hoping I'd catch you.  I haven't seen you of late unless it's in the arena."   

Ilmr stepped aside, motioning to Sif that she was welcome to enter.  "My apologies, I've been busier than I anticipated." 

Sif seated herself gracefully by Vidar on his settee.  He had a great fondness for the warrior woman.  She was one of the few he liked as opposed to merely tolerating.  "With Loki." 

Ilmr nodded.  "With Loki, yes."   

Sif shook her head, sitting forward slightly. "Why?  I don't understand - have we left such an impression on you that Loki's company is preferable?" 

Sif was someone Ilmr really did like.  Or rather, really wanted to like.  With no other woman in a similar position, Sif was an ally Ilmr was desperate for, but yet found herself resisting.  Sif's disdain for Loki was barely contained.  It seemed as though only Thor appreciated Loki's presence much.  She hadn't seen much of Fandral, and even less of his two other companions, Hogun and Volstagg, but from what she had witnessed at a distance, Ilmr didn't think she wanted to know more than she did of them.  Because Loki wasn't Thor, it seemed, he would never be truly welcomed by the so-called Warriors Three and Sif.   

"Loki and I have much in common, Sif.  I enjoy your company as well, just as I do Thor's." 

"And the Warriors Three?"   

"I have only had the opportunity to greet Fandral, but I'm sure I will know them all in time."  She smiled.  "I am here for as long as Asgard will have me." 

"I would hope so."  Sif raised an eyebrow momentarily, a sly smile creeping over her features.  "Fandral seems to ask after you often." 

"Does he?" Ilmr furrowed her brow.  She could count on one hand the number of times she had spoken with the warrior.   

A rather girlish giggle left Sif's lips.  It was so unexpected it made Ilmr laugh.  "He does.  He's quite taken with you." 

"I didn't realize."  Ilmr shook her head.  This would not do.   

"He does love a good mystery.  If only because there are so few of them left for him in Asgard." 

"I don't understand, I'm afraid." 

Sif stood, grasping Ilmr's arm and striding towards the door.  "Then you will sit among us this evening, surely the high table can endure your absence for one meal." 

***** 

The Warriors Three were pleasant company, Sif had not been wrong in that.  Hogun was from Vanaheim as well, and though not from her father's kingdom, he had nonetheless apparently been hoping to converse with her.  He was shrewd and chose his words carefully when he did speak.  He was untrusting of Loki.   

Volstagg was likely Ilmr's favorite of the Three.  He was jovial and guileless and seemed to take as much pleasure in food as he could.  His size and his ruddy beard made him appear most formidable, but it seemed to Ilmr that he was gentler in spirit than he looked.  He did not implicitly distrust Loki.   

Fandral was another story entirely.   

He was handsome, the blond Warrior.  Handsome and arrogant and comfortable in his irresistibility.  

"How does Asgard compare to the tales you have heard of it, my Lady Ilmr?"  Fandral flashed her a wide smile.  She could not deny his handsome visage and effervescence.  She could deny his wiles. 

"It lives up to the tales I have heard, though perhaps it's a bit grander than what I've been told.  One's imagination can only go so far, when trying to conjure a place such as this." 

"And it's warriors?"   

"I have heard of their great deeds, but I did not realize they meant the slaying of a roasted boar or the destruction of an entire casket of ale." 

Sif giggled; it seemed she was losing her battle against the ale this evening.  "You will all get lazy and fat, soon."  She glanced to Volstagg. "Well, fatt _er_." 

"I would resent that," Volstagg had barely managed to pause between bites, "If it weren't true." 

Ilmr smiled.  She found herself growing fond of the rotund warrior.  A hand cupping her shoulder caught her attention.   

"Would you indulge me, Ilmr, in a bit of innocent fun?"  The hand that had snaked around behind her belonging to Fandral gave her shoulder a squeeze.   

Raising an eyebrow, Ilmr looked to his hand then back to him.  It was apparently indication enough that he removed it.  "What sort of fun is that?"

He ran his hand through his hair, as if that were the reason for its removal from her person.  "A drinking contest, my lady.  Surely you had those in Vanaheim." 

"We did, yes.  I do not think I will participate this evening, however." 

"Folly!" He laughed.  "Sif, lend me aid.  The Lady Ilmr has not dined with us before, surely this is occasion to celebrate."

Sif nodded as she drank deep of her own glass. 

"I am afraid I must pass.  I will not get more than a headache and the inability to rise when I must tomorrow."   

Fandral caught her hand.  "Don't you want to know the stakes, before declining, my lady?  What if the prize is worth the pain?" 

Ilmr twisted her lips to one side, regarding Fandral with a mix of amusement and weariness.  "What is this prize?" 

He graced her with another winning smile.  "A kiss."  Judging by his expression, this reward had worked one too many times in his favor.  

Ilmr let out a brief laugh.  "I am sorry, Fandral, but I must decline.  I do not doubt, though, that there is many a maiden dining tonight who would gladly take my place."   

Fandral was flabbergasted for only a few moments time.  His hand had now found purchase on the arm of her chair, his smile no less charming.  "Will you tell us of some of your adventures then, instead?  You have heard much of us, but we know so little of you." 

"What do you wish to know?" 

"Anything - what has been your most daring adventure? Your favorite?  The most dangerous?  Where did you find that hound? -Anything you wish to share, you have been here for weeks and we have seen so little of you." 

Vidar.  It seemed everyone was curious about him.  She was not surprised, he was a rarity; a large, impossible-to-miss rarity.  That did not mean it didn't make her nervous. She took several long moments to think of something she could share, something she wanted to share.   

"Many of the battles I have seen, I saw on errand from my father.  He would send a delegation to another kingdom in Vanaheim or, occasionally, another realm.  Only a small number of battles I have seen have been because of my own errands." 

Hogun had remained quiet all the while, but now a small smile graced his features.  Though he was not from her lands, Ilmr realized he likely knew much of her history, given the strong bonds between her father's kingdom and the almost-neighboring kingdom Hogun hailed from.   

"You would go with each delegation?"  Volstagg managed to swallow before he spoke, this time.   

"My elder brother Njordr and I were a requisite presence at each conflict, armed or otherwise." 

Fandral smiled a mile wide.  "His right hand warrior, are you?  Surely you must have a tale or two you could share." 

"No, my lord.  Njordr is my right hand.  He is gifted, to be sure, but he is hot headed.  His advantage is in his strength and his tirelessness.  Mine is in my strategy.  He leads a great portion of our forces in battle, but they are my orders he carries out and it is to me that he answers."  She smiled.  "Well, he did." 

Sif was grinning fit to split her face.  She had not been afforded the same luxury as Ilmr had in this regard because of her standing.  Or rather, lack thereof.  It made Ilmr feel grateful, if only fleetingly, to her father for allowing her the position.  Anleifr's voice rang in her head.   _I will make her the best strategist, the best warrior -the best_ Commander _you have in your kingdom, so that you_ cannot _ignore her, so that you, without her, are weaker._ The memory was nearly one thousand years old, but his voice was as loud in her head now as it was the night she heard him.  No, no she was not grateful to her father.  She was grateful to Anleifr; her father had granted her the position out of necessity.   

"You were Commander in your kingdom for a time?" 

"She was _the_ Commander, in her kingdom."  Hogun had a way of pitching his quiet words so that all could hear him though he did not raise his voice.  "In Vanaheim, she does not have the luxury of anonymity she does here." 

"How is it that the Allfather did not know you when he first looked upon you, if you are so renown in your own realm?"  Fandral was peering at her with a smile that only partially reached his eyes.  It was similar to the look he had earlier when someone had mentioned the God of Mischief.  He did not outright distrust Loki, but he used great caution even when speaking of him, it seemed.  

"I know not." Ilmr knew he would not be satisfied with this answer, but it was the only one she had.  It was a question she had thought of since she arrived in Asgard but she did not think on it overmuch.  The Allfather had his reasons, and until he had shown her otherwise, his was judgment she could trust.   

Sif banged her hand on the tabletop as she gulped down the last of her ale.  "Perhaps he _did_  know who you were.  Perhaps he wanted to see if the tales were true.  Heimdall would have told him of your arrival." 

"He didn't."   

Sif gave her a perplexed look.   

"I asked him not to.  Heimdall is to protect Asgard from any threats.  I am no threat.  I asked, when I arrived, if he would do me the kindness of not revealing who I was, of allowing me a chance to put my skill before my name.  He agreed." 

A hand came down on Ilmr's shoulder with gentle weight.  "Ilmr, I would request your presence." Loki's voice was quiet but his tone made Fandral close his mouth around any objections. 

Rising, Ilmr nodded to Sif and the Warriors Three in parting before following Loki out of the banquet hall. 

***** 

A/N: Oh man, I’ve got another super long chapter next, too! The lyrics from this chapter are from Jessie J’s “Hero”.  I hope you’re all enjoying it!  I feel like there’s a lot of exposition, but it’s going to be picking up as characters/motivations are better established.

 


	6. Chapter 6 - Advantageous

**Chapter Six - Advantageous**

 

A/N:  This chapter begins from Loki’s point of view.  Any time you see a double break, that means the point of view has changed (so it will go Loki- Ilmr-Loki-etc-etc).  I hope it’s easy enough to follow – let me know.  The lyrics in this chapter are from We Are Scientists’ “Textbook”. 

There’s been a lot of exposition thus far so thank you for sticking with me!  Things are going to start happening now (whoo!), some of them mischievous, some of them devious, some of them even naughty (double whoo!)

  

_I know it’s not my business to be digging up_  
These things I shouldn’t know  
Twenty years of bad decisions  
Haven’t taught me much at all

 

"Is something amiss?"  She had waited until they were well away from the banquet hall to speak, at least.   

"Fandral grates on my nerves."  

Fandral was just an annoyance, most of the time; it astounded Loki how many Asgardian women fell prey to his nearly transparent...wiles, Loki supposed Fandral would call them.  It he was to be successful, he could not allow Fandral to work his charms on Ilmr, though Loki wasn't sure they would work; she was too intelligent to fall for them. 

She laughed. "He is certainly determined." 

Loki felt a rush of anger claw through him. "What did he do?"  His voice was lower than he intended.

Ilmr grinned.  "He requested I join him in a drinking contest." 

Loki scoffed.  "And to the victor would have gone...?"  He did not know where this flush of anger came from.  He was playing his part well, at least. 

"A kiss."  

He narrowed his eyes. "What did you say?" 

His tone, again harsher than he intended, stopped her.  Loki raised an eyebrow, nearly glaring as he waited for her to respond.  The longer she watched him, the more he was sure:  he had interrupted not a moment too soon.  He froze feeling her take a light hold of his arms, giving him the slightest of shakes.   

"I told him no, Loki." Letting her hands slip away, she turned to continue down the hall.   

He released a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. She seemed to be falling right into line with his plan.  Given their exchange only a few hours earlier, he felt confident that an advance would not be unwelcome.   

He caught up to her, turning her around quickly but carefully by a hand around her neck.  He was never able to sneak up on her, and it vexed him.  She may have heard him coming, but he surprised her instead with his careful hold of her, his fingertips brushing her hair.  He kissed her as he had before, lips lightly pressing hers.  He swept his tongue briefly against her bottom lip as he leaned away just far enough to part their lips.  If he played this just right, he could have her in hand before month's end.   

He watched her search his face without stepping away.  She leaned in again, closing that minuscule space, but instead of kissing him she spoke against his mouth, letting him feel her lips brush his. "What are you doing?"   

He had let himself get distracted.  She was entirely too close still and smelled of vanilla and sounded like silk.  He could not afford to be distracted, if his plan was to work.  He took a step back.   

"What?" He arched his brow, all confusion. 

A small smile played on her lips at his reaction.  "What are you doing? You wanted nothing to do with my presence and then barely a fortnight after an apology, you steal me away from someone you perceive as a threat." 

Loki glared.  "The thought of Fandral as a threat is insulting." 

"Then why did you interrupt and take me from the banquet hall?  I could mention both occasions now that you've kissed me, but I think they speak for themselves, do they not?" 

He stared her down, trying to decide what to say.  She turned and continued down the hall when he did not answer as the moments stretched on.   

Growling at himself, he followed her.  He disliked this chasing; she was the one who should be a step behind him.  "Ilmr –Ilmr!" His slightly louder call stopped her. 

Leveling her gaze at him, she waited.  

He cast around for something to say.  It was just as well; he needed to appear embarrassed and nervous.  "I have enjoyed the time I have spent with you because of Fenrir.  More than I thought I would.  It is good to have a friend." 

"I don't believe you're so familiar with your other…friends." She tilted her head as she spoke, watching him far to sweetly for him to believe the expression. 

He sighed.  "I am not, I wish…"

He thought for a moment.  What did he wish? He wanted to secure the throne as his and so his place as his brothers equal; with her at his side it would be nearly a sure thing.  He wanted to be careful to craft his lies.  They were good enough that she was believing them so far, but they were nearly too good - he was beginning to believe them.  He wanted to know why it didn't bother him overmuch, that he was starting to believe them.  He wanted to be closer.  He wanted to be less impetuous.   

"…I wish to do that again."  He closed the distance between them, his hand going behind her head once more to keep her near as he kissed her.   

She did not step away.  Rather, he felt her lean up to be closer to his height. As quickly as he felt her deepen the kiss, he was bereft of her mouth.  He straightened immediately, more than willing to trust her senses over his own.  He was not willing to reveal a tryst or potential courtship, not yet.   

A servant hurried by moments later with several plates laden with sweet meats and crisp vegetables.   

Loki glanced to her as the servant ducked around the corner into the banquet hall.  Her eyes were a darker shade than usual.  They made him think of the ocean, the dark blue-green color he could see from his balcony. He needed to keep his head, needed to have the upper hand. If this was to work, he needed to make her believe his affection without believing it himself.   

He needed to be less impetuous.  Later.  "I would appreciate your presence in my chambers."   

***** 

He should have had more restraint.  The scent of vanilla still lingered in his chambers, on him, though she had taken her leave nearly a quarter of an hour before.  She had tasted of wine.  Many of his dalliances had been with small, slight women of the court.  He had enjoyed the sense of power over them that he felt at their softness, their fragility.   

Ilmr was not like those women.  She was still head and shoulders smaller than he, but she was not soft.  She was not fragile.  He had known this, of course, but when Loki had slid his hands up her arms and then down her lithe frame, he was still surprised at the muscular feel of her.  He had not been thinking and he found that he had pressed her harder against his chamber wall at the thrill he felt as he realized he could not hurt her.  Not as easily as the lady-shaped silk and satin beings he usually brought to his chambers, anyway.  He had to be so careful with them, as though they were spun glass, and while he had enjoyed them, it was distracting to remember they could be easily broken.   

Loki shot up out of his seat by the fireplace to pace as he remembered how she had eased up onto her toes, pulling him closer to keep herself pressed hard between he and the wall behind her, deepening the kiss so far he felt rather than heard a quiet sound issue from her throat that made him clutch her closer.  He was ashamed of such a reaction.  It made his advances more believable, certainly, but if he was to gain the throne he needed to be clear-headed.  There was no time or place for such reactions. 

He stalked towards the doors that led from his chambers to the Lesser Hall regardless. 

*****  
***** 

A warm bath always helped to soothe her, to clear her head, and so Ilmr sank down into the water.  Letting out a puff of air to move a wisp of hair that had fallen free of the pile she had bound onto of her head, she closed her eyes.   

This involvement with Loki, whatever it was, could be dangerous.  He had gone from a cool distance to a heated nearness so close she could still feel the ghost of his hands at her waist.  The thought made her shiver and she sank lower into the steaming water.   

She was there to be Commander, eventually.  Not only to create a life separate from that which she had left behind in Vanaheim, but to create a force greater than Asgard had seen before.  She would be Commander, and Vidar would not be alone; the warriors of Asgard would have their own Cailean hounds.  Theirs would be a force the monsters of Hel would fear to engage.   

She could not afford distraction.   

Though, he was a Prince of Asgard and would be advantageous; if she were to distract herself with anyone, he was the best option.  The court acted as though Thor was heir apparent, but it seemed to Ilmr that Odin gave both of his sons the impression that the throne could go to either of them, the way he spoke.  But while Thor was boisterous and crass, Loki was subtle and calculating and had a sharp, crisp taste to him, like a summer wine, both sweet and tart, and he had a heady, musky sort of smell that mingled with the scent of the leather and old books he was always entrenched in and… 

She heard a sound behind her and she turned her head to tell the handmaiden that she would be out shortly.  Her eyes widened seeing Loki leaning against the door that led to her bedchamber.  He had draped his long, lean form against the door casually, but by the lines around his eyes and his mouth she knew he was taut as a bowstring. 

"Loki." Turning, she pressed herself against the edge of the deep tub, arms resting on the edge so that he could not see her so easily.   

Pushing off the door, he approached her, eyes calculating and hungry and guarded.  He lowered himself to sit on the floor in front of her, a leg bent and the other outstretched.  He still appeared both casual and edgy, still watched her silently.   

She would not give him the satisfaction of breaking first, and so they regarded one another silently for a stretch of time Ilmr could not fathom.  It felt as though it had been nearly a quarter of an hour but was likely closer to several minutes.   

When he spoke, his voice was so smooth, so serpentine, she understood why he was called Silver tongue. "You seem to have forgotten your robe in your bedchamber."  He traced a bead of water down her forearm with a finger.  When he finally lifted his gaze to meet hers, they were alight with carnivorous mischief.  "What is it that distracts you? You are not one to be so forgetful." 

"A gentleman would retrieve it for me." 

He let out a breath of a laugh. "I am no gentleman, Ilmr." 

Carefully leaning forward so that she remained covered, she left only a few inches of space between them.  He was a Prince of Asgard and advantageous to her.  "I will make it worth it."  

He removed the finger from her arm and gave the hand a slight wave as it traveled up to rest under her chin.  Her robe appeared laid out on the nearby ottoman.  He gave her a small smile.  "Go on, then." 

He had not shifted any closer and though only a few of his fingers rested under her chin, she knew she would not be able to shift backwards if she had wanted to try.  Instead she shifted forward, keeping her arms where they were to cover her as best she could.  Loki did not move his hand away but rather let his fingers slip further under her chin and down the side of her neck.  She hesitated when she felt herself to be a hairsbreadth out of reach of his mouth.  "What is it that Loki Odinson seeks in a half-elven exile?" 

He gave her a considered look that was no less hungry for the thought he was giving her question. He took a quiet breath in, as if gambling with his words.  "A companion." 

She met his lips then, but did not let it linger, did not entirely believe the God of Mischief and Lies.  Instead, she gave his lip a hard nip, breaking the kiss as quickly as it began.  His eyes seemed darker because of it.  If he was going to keep her at a disadvantage in her own bath chamber, she would even the field as much as she could.  "I do not believe you would appear before any other ‘companion’ while they were in such a state of undress." 

"You're right," He leaned forward, trailing light kisses along her jaw to her ear before he whispered, "I would not." 

An attempt to lean away to see his face reminded her that his hand was still against her neck as he held her secure where she was.  Ilmr grinned.  "Then you do not wish for a companion.  You wish for a plaything." 

"No, Ilmr," She disliked it, how much she liked the way he had made her name sound. He took the lobe of her ear into his mouth before whispering again, "I wish to court you." 

His hand could not hold her then, as she leaned away as quickly as she could.  She had enough sense to keep herself hidden against the edge of the bath, but she could not help feeling as though she were watching him wild-eyed.  "You -you _what_?"  

Whatever she had been expecting him to confess that was not it.  It had her grasping for something intelligent to say, it had caught her so off-guard. 

Smirking, he tucked a wisp of hair behind one of her ears, letting his fingers brush the shell.  "I wish to court you."  He adopted a troubled look that she did not entirely believe.  "Have I misjudged your interest?" 

He would be advantageous to her.  He was a skilled warrior and intelligent; a strategist like herself.  He tasted like… "You have not misjudged."  He was handsome and subtle and… "Would the King and Queen allow it?" 

His face darkened.  "They will."  …and more than a little dangerous.  

"Then I wish you to court me." 

*****  
*****

"Brother!"  Thor greeted his brother entirely too loud first thing in the morning for someone who had had so much to drink the night previous.   

Loki gave him a nod.  He did not want to encourage the behavior too much, though he seemed unlikely to dissuade him either, given that Thor had insisted on such noisy greetings for nearly a millennia.  "Thor." 

"I have most excellent news."  Thor was nearly vibrating with excitement.  No doubt Fandral had worked him up over a maiden or Sif had caught his ear about an adventure.  

"Do you?"   

Whichever it was, Loki was not particularly interested, the conclusion was foregone: if it were a maid, Thor would bed her.  If it were an adventure, Thor would go and would drag his brother along whether he wanted to go or not. 

Thor made his face into a sour mask in a mockery of his brother before dropping the act.  "Yes.  There is word that the conflict between the dwarves of Nidavelir and the rock trolls is ongoing." 

"It has been ongoing for many centuries, are you just getting wind of this now?"  

Thor scowled.  "Of course not.  I mean to say that it has grown more serious of late." 

Loki raised an eyebrow, ignoring Ilmr as she took a seat across from him.  "Do you not feel as though father is handling it well enough?" 

One thing Loki could always count on was his brother's impatience.  If anything would help tip the scales, aside from Ilmr, it was his brother's impulsive nature.  He would destroy any delicate political situation with the same care with which he destroyed enemies with Mjolnir.  Loki, on the other hand, was tactful and altogether an asset to his father's political dealings.  Thor usually sat through any meeting that didn't take place on a battlefield looking as though he should be chewing cud.   

"He is not handling it quickly enough; he would wait to see what will happen when he has waited for centuries with no difference in the result.  It is time for Odin's sons to intervene and drive the rock trolls from dwarfish lands."   

Loki could not help the rush of adrenaline that he felt wash over him.  Though boorish, Thor was not wrong.  To drive the rock trolls from Nidavelir would not only gain further trust and better relations with the dwarves, it would be a show of the strength of the house of Odin - both sons of the house of Odin- and once empty of the trolls, it would be easy enough to bargain with the grateful dwarfish folk.  

"I believe, brother, that I am inclined to agree, in this instance." 

Thor's face split into an enormous grin, and he clapped Loki on the back hard enough to knock him from the table, had he not been bracing himself for it. 

"I will go." 

Both Thor and Loki turned to face Ilmr.  She regarded them evenly, her face a mask that brooked no room to argue her declaration.   

"Of course, Lady Ilmr!"  Thor seemed to grow even more excited, and Ilmr's shoulders relaxed.  It occurred to Loki that as her first foray into conflict in Asgard, she wasn't sure how she would be received.  "Bring your mighty hound, as well!" 

"No." 

Loki's face was impassive, but Thor sputtered.  "You must!  I have not seen him in battle and I would like to." 

"I will not risk his loss to rock trolls or dwarves in the land I took him from.  Were we venturing almost anywhere else, I would not hesitate to have him accompany me, but not in Nidavelir." 

Thor opened his mouth to protest again.  Loki held up his hand and the relief present on Ilmr's face seeing him intervene made him rein in a smile.  "Thor, let it lie." 

***** 

It took no time to gain consensus from the Warriors Three and Sif as well.  The six of them had faced many adversaries before and returned to Asgard victorious.  With a seventh warrior in their company as skilled as the rest of them, it would be an easy task indeed, if it took more time than some of their other adventures.   

"Heimdall, we will travel to Nidavelir, this day."  Thor swaggered to the front of their group, a smile on his face.   

"Odin would not wish you to embark on this errand."  Heimdall's voice seemed to Loki to be as deep as his gaze, reaching everywhere.   

"Our journey will not threaten Asgard." Thor did not turn to face the Gatekeeper as he spoke, his impatience obvious in his tone. 

Heimdall sighed. "Very well." Loki could feel all-seeing eyes on his back. "I will not return you here should danger be close by; I will risk no threat to Asgard." 

With that, the sound of Heimdall's mighty sword sliding into place echoed through the observatory and within moments, the Bifrost came alive. 

Unlike before, though Heimdall had brought them down in the same location, Loki's hands immediately itched, sensing something amiss close by.   

"Be wary." Ilmr's voice was velvet again.  She sensed it as well.   

Closing his eyes, Loki straightened and pulled his shoulders back, projecting himself up and past their group.  All around them, he could see scouting parties of three or four trolls scattered between the Bifrost and the forests.  There were less than one hundred in sight.  

Relaxing, he opened his eyes.  "There are at least fifty trolls between us and the forests, maybe one hundred at most.  Give me a moment and I will search further, it seems odd that there are so few."   

Again, he projected himself up and farther forward than before.  Again, he saw no more than he had before.  It unnerved him, to see so few.  The numbers that had chased he and Ilmr had been at least triple.   

He returned once more, shaking his head.  "There are only those that I saw between us and the forests."  He spared Ilmr a glance.  "I do not understand." 

Thor smiled.  "All the simpler!" 

"This is worse, Thor."  Ilmr did not turn to face him as she spoke; she was concentrating on their surroundings and the sounds of their enemies.  "The skirmishes have gotten more frequent, worse.  Where are all of the rock trolls?  A number so small could not do to Nidavelir what has been done.  The dwarves could not have destroyed the number they would have needed to on their own, not without steep losses." 

Sif's face grew grim.  "And Asgard has received no word calling for aid, just a missive that the battles were increasing." 

"Because the dwarves have destroyed so many!" Thor turned to Ilmr.  "You cannot know that the dwarves didn't destroy them.  Or that this is a contingency left behind because there are so few dwarves." 

She gave him a rueful smile.  "I do know, actually." 

An impatient look crossed Thor's face again.  "And how do you know that?" 

"Loki did not mention it." 

A low growl issued from Thor's throat.   

"We should move on from this place.  We do not want to be surrounded." Fandral took a step away from the group, putting action to his words and further distracting Thor.   

True to form, Thor barged ahead, not wanting to seem as though he following anyone.  Loki watched Sif and Ilmr exchange a glance before stepping forward together, heads bowed as they spoke quietly.  Loki was tempted to cast an ear forward, if only to hear Ilmr's velvet.  It sounded remarkably similar to the lower tone from the night before, when she had gone so long using her mouth in another way that when she did speak, her voice was clouded with disuse and heat.  Almost to his chagrin, it made Loki inclined to hurry through this trial and retire to her chambers -or his- again.  Almost. 

***** 

They had engaged the first few groups of rock trolls within three quarters of an hour of their arrival and trekking across the expanse of tall, dark grass and rolling hills.  They were large, and so while easy to dispatch, their size meant it took longer than a more normal-sized adversary.   

Soon enough, though, the sound of battle reached farther camps and a handful of trolls at a time turned into ten, then twenty, then thirty.  At that point, even Thor was well distracted, though he had an easier time of it, reducing the ambulatory beasts made of all size and manner of rock into piles of rubble.   

A sound unlike the others so far in the battle rose from the gravel throat of a troll somewhere behind him and as several others took up the same noise, Loki wondered what communication passed between them through such primitive means.  Whatever it was, their enemies launched a renewed attack, trying desperately to lay any sort of blow, no matter how small.   

Baring his teeth, Loki grinned madly, crouching to avoid the swipe of a craggy fist and as he rose, he flung his body up into a stretch, limbs outstretched, letting his power flow through him and outward with great force.  The trolls surrounding him were diminished to heaps as their middles became dust.  It looked for all the world as though Loki stood in the middle of a landslide.   

He glanced around as he waited for others to engage him and it seemed that after such a display, others were reluctant to advance upon him.  Sif had felled several and Volstagg and Hogun had teamed up to take down half a dozen at least, one tripping and the other using the trolls' size and weight against them as they crashed to the ground.   

Fandral was as merry as ever.  Loki appreciated that about him, though he was irksome more often than not.  He did not have Thor's size or prowess, or Loki's, but Fandral was no less game for it, often taking on a feat with no less hesitation despite not having any sorcery or Mjolnir to lay claim to.   

Thor was laughing, which was no less than Loki expected.  With his great hammer in hand, Thor had it easier than any of them and it was more a sport than a fight for him.  Ilmr seemed to have the largest number of trolls surrounding her but she did not seem particularly fazed, her face set in a grim smile of determination.  She did not claim any of the abilities that her mother's side lent to some of her siblings, but she was right - her gift lay in the hours she had spent on the practice field.  She was fast and calculating; fatally efficient.   

While Vidar and Fenrir wrestled after their individual training, Ilmr and Loki had taken to sparring in the clearing. The contest when she had first arrived had been indicative: their styles complemented one another well such that he finally had someone that would take his skill into account, and with it, he would push her.   

With that in mind, he did not hesitate and flashed over to her so that their backs were to one another.  Without missing a step she adjusted herself so that they worked in tandem to fell the trolls that kept coming.   

"Duck!" His hand at her back had them both dropping low as a hand-shaped boulder passed a hairsbreadth over their heads.   

Not half a moment later, he heard her sharp intake of breath and the "My left!" that immediately preceded her hand thrusting him aside, tumbling them to the ground and rolling away, a huge rockfall foot stomping the space they had been standing in only moments before.  

Springing up, he cast a flash of energy at the creature while Ilmr was still righting herself.  He offered her a hand, spinning her close against himself, casting a blast towards another that had thrown himself at them.  She had gripped his hand tighter than he expected but she loosed it moments later, stepping away and into an oncoming behemoth, thrusting her sword into what could only be it's knee, and jamming her body weight down on the hilt hard, the leverage separating the body from the lower leg.  As it lost it's balance she leapt, straddling the massive expanse of it's chest as best she could, again using her weight and a weak point on the beast, this time to separate the head from the body.   

It took another hour at least before all the rock trolls -at least, all of those that dared venture forth- lay as debris all around them.  Thor let out a victorious laugh, hefting Mjolnir aloft, Fandral joining in the laughter as he surveyed the area surrounding them.  Breathing lightly, Loki allowed himself a grin.  Volstagg, though smiling, was breathing rather heavily and looked for all the world as though he needed a bite to eat and a nap.  Sif wiped sweat from her brow while Hogun assisted her as she strove to climb out of the pile she had immersed herself in.  Ilmr was standing nearest Loki, as they had spent much of the time since he joined her fighting alongside one another.  Though she was no more out of breath than Loki, she wore a deadly serious expression, waiting seemingly ill at ease for the others to be ready to journey home.   

"Brother!" Thor sauntered over, clapping his brother on the shoulder.  "That was a most magnificent battle!"  He turned to Ilmr then, hailing her in the same way, a hand coming down heavily on her shoulder.  Her knees seemed to buckle before she caught herself and gave him a tight smile.  "And Lady Ilmr! It was a pleasure to see you in battle; it is so like and yet unlike your sparring.  You are most welcome to our future endeavors." 

"We should return home, brother.  I dislike how few trolls there were; this realm should be half overrun.  Something is not right."  Loki was dusting his greatcoat of rock dust as he spoke.   

"Agreed."  Sif jumped down from the rock pile she had been surrounded by, sheathing her sword and sweeping her gaze across the dark landscape beyond them.  "We have a ways to go before we get to the Bifrost site and I dislike the quiet and the numbers." 

"We must seek the lord of this land, alert him to our victory and his security."  Thor's tone was resolute.  He would not go without claiming his praise, it seemed. 

"We will send a missive, Thor.  The rubble speaks for itself, Lord Dgol will know.  We will leave now."  Ilmr's voice was stony.   

Thor raised an eyebrow.  "You forget where you are now.  You are in no position to be imparting orders."  

Loki did not think that Thor knew the direction of the Dwarf Lord's palace and a small smirk crept over his features watching Thor stomp off in a seemingly random direction.   

"Thor."  Ilmr's voice was steel-edged.  "We will leave now." 

Thor turned slowly, his brow sloped and his jaw set.  Marching over to Ilmr, he straightened to tower over her at his full height.  To her credit, she did not flinch, did not look away.  The steel never left her eyes.   

Loki slid between them, what little space there was.  "Brother," his tone was quiet, "heed her.  We need to go.  The trolls' numbers were too few.  We will get caught out, if we have not already been."  He had not wanted to intervene, but Thor was standing straighter, glaring harder, and while Ilmr's resolve did not waver, her knees seemed to again.  It was odd, as even after sparring with Thor and the damage done to her hand, she had not seemed to notice what must have been immense pain.   

With a low, guttural growl, Thor spun on his heel.  "We return to Asgard."   

He did not speak to any on the walk back his mood had been so soured.  As the Bifrost came into sight on the horizon, Loki raised his head from the dagger he had been whetting against a flint stone.  The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.   

"Ilmr." He found her staring at him, when he turned to face her. 

A humorless smile lit her face.  "Did I mention how keen the sense of smell is, among the Cailean?" 

"She remembers?" 

"They are very, very intelligent.  The time it took us to vanquish the rock trolls and trek most of the way back to the Bifrost is more than enough time for her to have picked up our scent and come for us.  Especially now that her charges are big enough to be left alone." 

Fandral looked between Loki and Ilmr, a mix of confusion and affront on his face.  "What are you two on about?" 

Loki ignored his look.  "Run, Fandral."  He glanced to the others who looked similarly confused and intrigued.  "As fast as you can, we must run." 

Thor brightened for the first time in the better part of an hour.  "What is this new challenge?"  He slid Mjolnir down from his grasp to grip the leather thong at its end. 

"No!  You must not hurt her.  You must run."  Loki watched Ilmr's pupils dilate and knew she could sense the huge mother hound closing in.  "Now!" 

The others hesitated only a few moments, but in that time, the ground began to shake.  They sprinted. 

"More trolls?"  Sif tossed the question out to Loki and Ilmr.

"One of the Cailean."  Loki chanced a look behind him and he could see her huge form looming over a hill, her massive paws slamming into the ground, churning up bits of grass and loam as she rushed towards them.   

"The what?"  Fandral looked behind himself and let out a yell that was half-laughter in his nervousness.   

"That's what Vidar is.  He is of the Cailean.  Huge hounds; they are wild but can be easily tamed, if you can get them away from their dams as mere pups." 

" _That_  is the size your hound will get?"  Volstagg was breathing heavily as he ran hell-for-leather.  His size belied his stamina as he kept pace easily. 

"No, he won't get quite that large."  She cast a glance to Loki but said no more.   

"She is still angry that you took one of her pups?  That must have been centuries ago."  Thor was glancing back entirely too often for Loki to believe he didn't mean to turn and face her before they reached the Bifrost. 

"Not me, no."  Again, Ilmr offered no more.   

"Then…" Sif turned her head to Loki.  "She recognizes you.   _You_  took one of the pups?"  In her astonishment, she stumbled over a slight dip in the ground.  Hogun hoisted her up before she could fall completely. 

"Talk later."  He ground the word out, shoving Sif forward ahead of himself.   

Despite their speed, the dam was closing in on them with every bound she took.  Casting a barrier behind them, Loki braced for her impact as he ran.  Not half a minute later, she crashed into the barrier so hard he pitched forward and fell.  Tucking into himself, he rolled, springing up as quick as he could.  The growl that emanated from her rippled through the group, judging from the shudders he saw pass through each of his companions.   

The Bifrost site was fast approaching, but still too far away, and the Cailean hound was too close for Loki to think Heimdall would open the portal for them. Thor roared for the gatekeeper anyway. 

"He will not open the Bifrost, Thor!"  Loki glanced around, thinking as quickly as he could.  "I can distract her."  Without another word, he cloaked himself in invisibility and threw a projection of himself off to one side that sprinted away from the group.   

At first, she did not take the bait but once his projection gave a sharp whistle, she rushed towards it and away from the group.   

Still cloaked, he allowed himself a smile at his own cleverness.  Moving through the group, he came up next to Ilmr as she ran, taking her free hand in his.  She did not make any motion to indicate her startle at the feeling, but she gripped his hand tight; tighter than he expected she would, and she did not lessen her hold.   

"Thor! Call for Heimdall!"  She called. 

"But Loki--"

"It is a projection, Thor!"  Ilmr interrupted.  Loki smiled inwardly.  At least someone in the group was quick to pick up on his tricks, though her voice sounded strained.   

Just as the dam caught up to his projection and snapped at it's head, the Bifrost activated and their group rocketed back to the observatory in Asgard.   

Loki uncloaked himself.  Ilmr had still not let go of his hand and her grip had not lessened.   

Fandral laughed.  " _That_  was an adventure unlike one we've had in a while.  We must have another such soon!"

"A few weeks, Fandral, please.  I must recover my strength."  Volstagg put a hand on his stomach.  

"It's true." Sif grinned.  "Volstagg must have time to clear a few tables before he'll be ready to venture forth again." 

"I am sorry I doubted your judgment, Lady Ilmr."  Thor had wandered over, giving her a small, apologetic smile.  She was still gripping his hand and while Loki wondered at it, he was not about to mention it. 

"Truly, it is fine, unless you have ventured into the woods or stolen one of the pups you would have had no reason to know of the Cailean or the urgency of my request." 

Thor slid his eyes to his brother.  Loki did not miss the fact that his eyes flashed down to his hand in Ilmr's vice grip.  "Speaking of theft, you have a hound similar to Ilmr's?  I much desire to see it."  For once, Thor had the sense to lower his voice. 

Loki nodded.  "Provided you will swear to silence until I am ready to reveal him to father, then yes." 

The glint in Thor's eye made Loki smile inwardly.  It was moments like this that made him feel a kinship with his brother unlike any he'd felt since they were children.  "I will not breathe a word to father." 

It would suffice, and Loki nodded.  "Then let us return to the palace.  As I understand it, Volstagg is likely to eat his boots if we do not hurry." 

Ilmr's vice grip on his hand did not lessen the entire way back to the palace.  None of their companions seemed to notice and if they did, they did not mention it.  Once they arrived however, Ilmr released his hand as quickly as she could.   

"I will see you all tomorrow." 

"You will not join us to see Loki's hound?"  Thor glanced between Ilmr and his brother, confused and surprised at once.   

"I spend time with Fenrir every day.  For now, I must retire."  Without waiting for another word from any in the group, she spun on her heel and hurried away.   

Loki led his brother to his chambers, all the while his thoughts distracted: something was amiss with her.  Something was very out of place.  For the first time since she arrived in Asgard, she seemed to Loki to be very out of sorts and unfocused.  

As he opened his bedchamber doors, Fenrir trotted over, glad to see his master returned.   

"This is Fenrir."   

Thor's face split into a huge grin.  "He is most handsome!"  Fenrir was growing quickly, his head already to Loki's waist.  There were plenty of nights lately Loki did not get much sleep, as Fenrir was unable to get comfortable as his limbs stretched and elongated as he grew.  "The beast that gave chase was his mother?" 

"That's how she recognized our scent; Ilmr and I journeyed to Nidavelir nearly three weeks ago now.  I had inquired about Vidar and after some discussion, we decided to make the trip to retrieve one for me." 

"She does not seem to like to talk about him." 

Loki watched his brother scratch behind Fenrir's ears and generally fawn over him.  "Vidar?  No, she doesn't.  She fears the prejudice of Asgardians will manifest in harm to him." 

"That's absurd.  She is a lady of the court, a Princess, and a guest of the royal family.  None would dare." 

Several weeks ago, Loki might have agreed.  Now, as he regarded his own animal, he was not so sure.  Even as an Odinson, he felt the whispers and isolation that surrounded him because he was not his brother.  Thor would not understand.   

"One can never be too careful. For now though, brother, I myself must retire.  Fenrir has been alone entirely too long and I must attend to him before he tears my furniture apart again." 

A laugh erupted from Thor.  "Did he truly?" 

Loki grinned, a breath of a laugh escaping him at the memory. "He had torn part of a rug and destroyed several pillows.  I was livid." 

"And yet here he stands, living and breathing."  Thor cast a veiled look his way.   

"He did not mean it and it was my own doing, I left him free and did not give him enough stimulation.  I have not made a similar mistake since." 

"I believe our newcomers have been good for you, brother."  Thor rose and strode toward the door.  "My thanks for allowing me to meet him.  He will be a most fearsome opponent, once he is grown." 

Loki decided not to dwell on his brother's comment.  Instead, he saw to Fenrir and cast himself into Ilmr's chambers.  Vidar lifted his great head at Loki's appearance but did not bother to rise, having grown so used to him that he no longer considered him an intruder.   

When he did not see her in her bedchamber, he hoped fleetingly he would catch her in the bath again and he could spend time coaxing her into such a frenzy that, much like the night previous, he would find himself repaying her for the intrusion with his lips and tongue and teeth.   

But Ilmr was nowhere to be found.

 

 


	7. Chapter Seven - Losing Sight

**Chapter Seven – Losing Sight**

A/N: Another chapter with a few changes of perspective within! This chapter starts off with Ilmr, switches to Loki and back to Ilmr.  As with before, a double page break will indicate a change in perspective. That seemed to work well last time (I think).  We see a little of Odin/Loki in this chapter, which is interesting for Ilmr, who hasn’t seen them one-on-one before.  How is everyone feeling about chapter length, by the way; too long, too short, just right? I try to make breaks where they make the most sense, but I wonder if sometimes they’re a bit long. Anyway, the lyrics in this chapter are from Cake’s “Shadow Stabbing”.

 

 

_I’m so nervous_  
 _I’m so tense  
_ _My heart can’t forget about this self-defense_

 

Anleifr had taught her everything she needed to know about battle, about strategy and cool-headedness.  He had taught her about iron.  

_She had been in her teens at the time and instead of sparring as was their routine, he took her to a smithee and watched as she grew nauseous, lightheaded, and weak._

_"What's happening, Leifr?" She had done her best to keep her voice calm.  She did not think she succeeded particularly well._

_Anleifr looked slightly green as well.  "It is iron, Ilmr.  It is one of the few vulnerabilities of the elven races.  As half-elven, it doesn't affect us quite as much as it would Mother.  But you must remember to be careful.  You will encounter many an enemy with iron weapons in battle.  You will need to ignore this nausea.  It will not kill you, if it were to pierce your skin as it likely would if we were elven through and through, but it will be an unimaginable pain, it will be slow to heal. It will scar."_

_She nodded.  "I didn't realize it would affect us so."_

_He hummed, leading her back out of the building.  "No, Mother and Father wouldn't have told you, not yet.  But you need to know, the sooner the better."_  

And in Nidavelir as they fought with the trolls, one of them nicked her.  She had been careful, so careful.  Her ears were her advantage, as she took after her Vanirian father rather than her elven mother.  An enemy would not know immediately one of her few weaknesses.  The trolls discovered it.   

It was a glance of his scimitar off her side as she whirled and her armor shifted; the Asgardian chest plate never fitting as snugly as her own she had brought to Asgard, especially not once it was slick with sweat.  It was not a particularly deep blow, but it was enough.  She sucked in a harsh breath through her teeth, needing half a moment to right herself as her vision swam.  It was all the creature had needed.   

Between the various campaigns she and Njordr had led, they learned many languages and those they did not, they knew at least the most pertinent words and phrases.  The rock trolls did not have a language necessarily, but they communicated with a series of sounds and motions in the same way one would a spoken language.   

The sound that the one who cut her took up, that was passed along through his surrounding compatriots, was one she and Njordr had long ago committed to memory.  It was a low, loud sound of scraping gravel that travelled farther than one would suspect.   _Elf,_  they had alerted one another.   _She is an elf_. 

They had sought to overpower at least one of the group easily, then; likely they had hoped for more than one, given their discovery of her heritage despite her appearance.   

Loki came to her aid, though he did not realize how much she had needed it.  He was bored, most likely, as they were hesitant to approach him after he crumbled half a dozen with one blast of his sorcery.   

The bleeding did not staunch, but she would not have bled out, not for many hours, perhaps days.  She was glad of her dark armor.  Once the Cailean hound that had been chasing them was distracted and they were upon the Bifrost, her body flooded with searing pain.  Without survival as a focal point, remaining upright was a battle she fought with each breath.   

Loki had taken her hand to signal that he was with them though cloaked in invisibility, but she used him to her own ends, gripping his hand as hard as she could.  Even once they had returned to Asgard, she would not let go.  It was the anchor by which she remained standing.   

No matter what the others might have thought, what Loki might have thought, she kept a vice grip on his hand until they reached the palace again.  Ilmr nearly tore her hand from his once inside the gates, heading for the healing rooms as quickly as she could without calling attention to her destination.   

It was several hours later when she stepped into the hall headed for her chambers.  Given another comfrey-scented draught, she was bandaged after a salve was applied that stung almost as much as the feel of iron cutting into her skin.  She had been sent on her way with a small jar of the salve and instructions to wash the wound and bandage daily.  It would likely be a fortnight, she had been told, before it was fully healed.  There was nothing they could do for the scar it would earn her. 

"Where were you?"   

Ilmr nearly jumped at his voice, as he had been sitting stock-still on the settee behind her door.   

"Loki." She put a hand to her chest as if to calm her heart.   

He furrowed his brow.  "And you are not wearing your armor, but it is not here."   

"It is being sent to me in the morning, I did not wish to carry it."  She also did not wish to talk about where she was.   

"Where is it being sent from?"  

Scratching under Vidar's chin, she sighed.  "I am exhausted and don't wish to talk, Loki." 

That was apparently not good enough, as before she knew it, he was in front of her, between she and Vidar, and Vidar was growling low.  "Where?" 

There was something in his eyes, then: anger, jealousy, perhaps even concern.  She did not care for any of it.  "Not here." 

She moved past him, teeth clenched, heading for her privacy screen to change into a night shift.  He let out a frustrated sound from the spot she had left him in.   

Carefully tugging her tunic over her head, she shook her hair out.  And jumped.  There was a hand at her side and she clutched her tunic to her chest.   

"By Odin, Loki!"  She pushed against his chest to move him away, only succeeding in shifting him half a step.  "I don't care if you _are_  courting me, this is not acceptable." 

"What is this?" His voice was dangerously low.  It was glimpses like this that reminded Ilmr that she had just agreed to be courted by one of the most dangerous beings in the Nine Realms.  She was reminded she should have been fearful of him, and that she wasn't meant she would likely meet an end that was less than desirable.   

"It is a bandage."  She attempted to ease his hand from her side but after a few moments without success she gave up, letting him rest his hand wherever he liked, provided she was allowed to lay down sooner rather than later, her knees felt all too shaky for her liking.  "A mere graze, I assure you." 

He watched her silently for several moments.  "A mere graze that required a visit to the healing rooms that lasted several hours, that still has you weak on your feet." 

Many forgot that he was the God of Lies not just because he told them, but because he was uncanny when it came to their detection.  Sighing, Ilmr nodded.  "It was no more than a mere graze to any of you.  To me, though it was not especially deep, it was particularly problematic; their weap--" 

"Iron." 

Ilmr nodded.  "Even so."  Loki tugged the tunic out of her grasp and she flung her hands over her chest.  "What in the Nine--" 

"Let me see."   

His tone stopped her.  His voice was flush with anger, but there was an undercurrent of something else that she could only call concern though she knew better.  She knew that was not the right word.   

Shifting her elbows up but keeping her arms crossed above her chest, she turned to the side so he could better inspect the wound.  Carefully unwrapping the bandage, he took stock of the injury that showed through the salve that had not yet sunk into her skin.   

"That is no graze, it should have nearly killed you."   

Her skin had been stitched together and though the salve stung viciously, it had begun to clot the blood flow.  The skin around it was angry and inflamed, making it look far worse than it should have.  She wanted desperately to cover it again, to sit down.   

"I am _half_  elven, Loki.  If I were one of my mother's full-blooded kin, it may have.  As it is, I would like to have a lay down, once you are finished inspecting the injury to your contentment." 

He ignored her.  "Why did you not say anything?  Thor would have turned immediately towards the Bifrost without half of the fig--" 

"He would have turned and he and Fandral would have argued over who carried me back so that they could feel bolstered by their own chivalry! Not only did I manage, it would have gone unnoticed entirely had you not--…what _are_ you doing here?" 

Again, he seemed to ignore her, winding the bandage back around her middle. "They would not have had the opportunity to argue over it; oafish and graceless the both of them. They would not have been allowed to assist you, they would have left you worse for the wear." 

Ilmr could not help but smile.  "I don't believe Sif would have managed under my weight, strong though she is." 

He held her nightdress to her.  "Don't be daft."  Tucking the corner of the bandage end into the layers, he smirked.  "And you do not seem like one to be unnerved so easily; I could not imagine what had you so spooked as to require my hand the entire way from the observatory to the palace, so I came investigating." 

"Now you know."  She tugged the nightdress over her head quickly but carefully and pulled on a light dressing robe over it.  

"You will tell me, next time."  

Ilmr raised an eyebrow.  His desire to court her aside, his concern -because that was the only word she had for it- was suspect.   

"You act as though this has never happened before.  I have returned home every time before, including this time, without issue or indeed any indication to my company that I was injured in such a way.  I do not see why I would need to say anything." 

"You will tell me."  His tone, low and quiet, was not unlike the one he used when she had dragged her teeth over just the right spot on his throat, except this was edged with metal instead of lust.   

"I will tell you, if I judge it worth revealing." 

Something flashed in his eyes, his jaw clenched.  He changed the subject, somewhat.  "You have been so injured before?" 

Ilmr lowered herself slowly to sit facing him on the settee, legs tucked underneath her.  "When your enemy knows you arrive as part of a contingency sent from Egil of Vanaheim, it is a foregone conclusion that they will be sure to have at least some iron weapons." 

"Many times?"   

Shrugging off one arm of the robe to reveal the long pink scar that began just below her elbow and ran up to her shoulder that she had shown him part of before.  "A few times; I have been Commander for two hundred years and I've fought in battle for six hundred.  To think I have not felt the sting of iron before is absurd." 

Loki waved a hand.  "The others?" 

"Aside from the one you inspected mere minutes ago?"  She gave him a sly smile.  "Those others you may have the fortune of seeing sometime, but we are far too early in our courtship for that now." 

A wide, wolfish smile spread across his face, and Ilmr was reminded again that he was dangerous.  It sent goosebumps up her spine.  "You can still speak of them, can you not?" 

"There is one along my leg, here," she swept a finger up the outside of her left leg from mid-thigh to just past her hip. "And there is another along my back, straight down from right shoulder to my waist.  That one almost did kill me because of how deep it was, how close to my spine, though the iron of the weapon did not make it any easier to bear." 

"When may I see them?" 

Ilmr let out a breath of a laugh and then fixed him with a knowing look.  It was a risk, but it was a calculated risk.  "When I know exactly what you're playing at with me." 

"I beg your pardon?"  He sounded indignant and he straightened, moving his face close to hers in a way that made Ilmr assume he was trying to intimidate her.  He would have, had the gesture not made her that much more sure that he had an ulterior motive. 

"You may see the other scars when you tell me exactly why you're courting me.  Why you care so much for my well-being."

"Do you think so little of me as to think I have no emotions save for rage?"  He spat.

"I think you are damning yourself further, and I think that you have other emotions, but none that come about so quickly.  And I think you want to lay with someone, though given your current endeavors, you need to wait until I wish to as well, and it's wearing on your nerves." 

He laughed, then.  She had not been expecting laughter.  She had not been expecting him to crash his lips against hers, his tongue finding its way into her mouth and a hand holding against her jaw to keep her from moving.  "Goodnight, Ilmr." 

He stood and swept out of her room without another word.  She sat contemplating him for so long that she was roused by Vidar's cold nose in the morning to find she had fallen asleep on her settee. 

***** 

Predictably, Odin was displeased that his sons and their companions had stormed into Nidavelir without his express consent, but he was unable to hide his satisfaction with the result they had claimed.   

"May we see your hound again, Ilmr?"  Fandral had seated himself with Thor, Ilmr and Loki now that Odin had said his piece and left the banquet hall that morning.   

"I am sure you will see him again in due time."  She was loathe for many to spend too much time with Vidar; she did not want him to become overly familiar with too many. He was not wary or nervous around any, which is what she wanted.  Familiarity she did not.   

He frowned, shifting closer to her to speak quietly so that only she would hear.  "Will you not accept any of my advances?" 

She smiled as though he had said something else, replying just as quietly.  "No, Fandral, I will not." 

He huffed, but did not retreat. "And for what reason?  I have been nothing but kind, friendly, welcoming - I have done nothing to offend you.  Why?" 

Ilmr opened her mouth to respond and felt a hand on her thigh on her other side.

"She will not accept advances."  Loki hissed.  Apparently, he had heard their conversation from his seat on Ilmr's other side.   

Fandral glanced down to see Loki's hand resting high and familiarly on her thigh and sat back.  "My apologies, I was not aware."  He muttered, dejected.   

Thor did not seem to notice, nor Sif, from their places opposite them at the table, engaged in conversation about their victory the day before.   

"I wish to see you in my chambers after you are done with your meal."  

Ilmr raised an eyebrow.  She did not bother to meet his gaze as she spoke, keeping her voice low, opting instead to pay attention as she served herself a second helping.  "Are you courting me, or have you decided I would be better as a servant?" 

His hand was still on her thigh; he squeezed tightly and did not let go. "Please." 

She nodded, only after which did he loosen his hold.  He did not remove his hand until he took his leave a quarter of an hour later.   

"Why did you not tell me?"  Fandral was quiet.   

"It is fledgling, Fandral.  We do not wish to make any more formal or overt announcement as of yet.  I apologize." 

He gave her a smile.  "If it should not be an arrangement that suits you..."  his smile widened into the one that likely won him many a maiden's heart. "...please, inform me; I implore you." 

She laughed.  "You are ever determined."  Moving her plate aside, she stood, laying a hand on his shoulder as she turned.  "And I will, should that happen." 

***** 

She opened the door only wide enough to slip in, knowing Fenrir would bound over to her when he spied her.   

True to form, he was in front of her, his great head coming up just below her bust.  "Fenrir, my little love."  She cooed, scratching all over his head. 

"Not quite so little." Loki was seated in a deep, plush armchair, book in hand and a smile on his face as he watched his hound enjoy her ministrations. 

"I suppose not, though compared to Vidar, he is still a babe."   

She seated herself across from him on a large couch, her back to the arm and a hand guarding her injured side so that Fenrir could climb up without injuring her further and seat himself in her lap as he usually would, if given the chance.  He was as soft as he was large, and Ilmr knew he would be ferocious, when it came to protecting what he perceived now as his pack.  Within the next year, they would need to begin bringing him along on short ventures to test his mettle and better prepare him for the heat of real battle.   

Loki observed she and Fenrir for so long she nearly asked him what he had called her to his chambers for, in her growing impatience.   

"The throne."  He finally said, so quietly she thought for a moment she had misheard him.   

"What? I don't--" 

"You asked my real meaning behind courting you, my sudden concern.  That is it." 

"I don't see h--...you think me advantageous to you." 

"Yes." He smiled wider.  "Thor may be the favorite to become heir, but Odin cannot ignore my cunning and political knowledge, such that Thor does not possess.  With you at my side, he could not deny me the throne, my equality to Thor, though he be favored.  Between my skills and yours, he could not deny the better choice of leader and the woman he courts who will doubtless command Asgard's forces in less than a century for the bumbling oafishness of my brother." 

Ilmr smiled wide.  She swallowed the nerves she felt at revealing her hand in whole, but she had come to realize if she could not read his lies, she _could_ tell his truths.  "This is a better match than you may know.  I told you I came here to make a place for myself, and I am.  But as Commander of Asgard's forces, I plan to have a regiment devoted to the Cailean and handlers, which will be easy enough to procure considering our recent venture to Nidavelir.  With you on the throne, it will be relatively easy for me to convince the King of Asgard of the Cailean's importance.  And the importance of removing Cuyler from his position.  He is wholly unsuited to it."

Loki laughed, standing in one fluid movement and striding over to where she had stretched, Fenrir's head laying against her stomach.  He bent just as he took hold of the hair at the nape of her neck and pressed his lips against hers, hard and insistent, only pushing the kiss deeper when she opened her mouth further to return it.   

Fenrir was gently nudged off of the couch and within moments Loki had taken his place, his knees on either side of her hips pinning her in place.  She shifted, leaning up on her elbows to better meet him, inhaling the leather and musky scent of him as she dragged her lips along his jaw to his ear. 

His hands gripped the back of her neck and her waist on her uninjured side hard feeling her take his lobe in her mouth.  Before she could smile to herself against his skin she gasped; the low, quiet growl that issued from him stopping her.   

His voice when he spoke was as quiet and dark as his eyes had been when, on nights past, they had found themselves in a similar position.  "We will pay my mother and father a visit before the dinner hour today, to make a formal announcement of the courtship." 

"And until then?"  Her voice was low and heavy; the tone one she knew always seemed to send a pleasant, if subtle, jar through him. 

In response, he ducked his head and paid the length of her throat the attention his mouth had previously given hers.  Tilting her head further, she could only grip his bicep tight, almost letting out a sound at the strength there, indeed in his entire lithe form, as he settled so that he pressed her tight between himself and the cushions and paid little attention to aught else but her skin and mouth.   

It was so difficult, more difficult than many things she had had to face in her life, to remember to keep her head.  He was a clever wordsmith, the see-er and teller of lies, but she had never heard of this other truth of him: he could make her body betray her truths.  That it would so easily give in where her mind tried not to; it took all of her effort to remain focused, despite his tongue laving at her throat, his teeth against her lips and the taste of his mouth in hers.   

They may have had goals so similar it was prudent for a truthful courtship, and she was glad that they would not need to deceive each other of all of their plans, but she was not so foolish that she thought there would be no attempt at deception from him.  She had to remain careful until she was sure she had him well in-hand. 

She was still foolish enough, however, that when he finally, finally, brought his mouth back up to hers and kissed her full and deep and pressed himself down against her, as if she could not already feel him, she could not help but push her hips back up against his hard, enough so that they both felt the other loose a quiet sound into the kiss. 

*****  
***** 

He had spent much of the morning with his mind buried inside layers of Ilmr's velvet and the sweet, vanilla scent of her.  Once he was sure he had left her lips appropriately, subtly bruised and her skin faintly smelling of him, he let her see to Vidar while he looked after Fenrir and thought of what he would say to Frigga and Odin when he brought Ilmr to them later to formally announce their courtship.   

He had to admit, even when his plans were half-formed they were usually superior.  He had chosen well, in Ilmr.  Not only her shrewdness and wit, or skill in battle, but her end-game was much the same as his and would lend itself well to the betterment of Asgard. The winning over a woman Odin would have undoubtedly thought good enough for only Thor would put Loki on more even ground with his brother. 

He flipped through a book absently as he ran over his words in his head.  It helped that she was rather beautiful.  Odin, for all his wisdom, was still notoriously picky, looking down on many of the lovely women in court because they were not lovely enough.   

Ilmr would be an exception, he knew.  Slender and strong, she was not the delicate puff of femininity so many of the other women of court reminded him of.  There was a delicate slope to her nose, the arch of her brow; yet she was capable of an expression so severe that he did not doubt she would have stood against Thor in Nidavelir without a second thought had Loki not stepped in.  She kept her pin-straight, auburn hair longer than Sif's, just short enough that it would not be a hindrance in battle, but long enough that it was clear to Loki she had a mind to display both her femininity and her strength.  He liked her lips overmuch, and –he closed his book with a snap. 

He would be unprepared if he did not focus long enough to form the right words.   

***** 

He had walked down to retrieve Ilmr shortly after he knew his mother would have taken tea.  His attire, more formal than usual, consisted of black trousers and a deep green tunic.  The black and gold leather chest plate of his armor had been buckled into place before his black greatcoat had been shrugged on.  He was missing his heavier armor, but with this his parents would know it was more serious than a social visit before taking dinner.   

Loki had been to Ilmr's chambers so often in the past three weeks, he had ceased knocking at least a week prior, perhaps before then.  He wasn't sure, once he thought on it. Hearing his footfall, Ilmr turned in her seat in front of her vanity.  She had likely heard his approach from down the hall, but had begun to humor him and appear as though she only knew of his presence once he was there.   

She wore a deep green dress; she had not worn green once in the time she had been in Asgard, he realized.  It was sleeveless and dipped just low enough that the graceful curve of her collarbone was visible, the swell of her breasts slightly more noticeable.  He had not realized she was in possession of any jewelry, though as soon as he had the thought he realized it was foolish; she had just never worn it before, clearly not having seen a need.  Earrings dangled just above her shoulders, violet gems held between the delicate twines.  A necklace to match, though more intricate in the curving and twisting of the gold filigree, a large, multi-faceted violet gem hanging in the middle.   

"This is appropriate of Asgardian custom, is it not?  For the women to wear their chosen's colors for the formal announcement of courtship?"  She was fussing with her hair still. 

He nodded, realizing that he would need to focus on keeping himself single-minded.  She had goals just as he did and he could not let himself get carried away with the sight and scent of her until he was sure he had her well in-hand. 

"It is. You look lovely."  He took her by her shoulders from where he stood behind her seat, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head.  "You will do well for me." 

She smirked raising an eyebrow as she watched him in the mirror.  "Fortunately, you will suit me just fine, too."  Raising her hands again, she fussed over her hair for another few minutes before she had it worked into an elegant coif, small braids woven through her hair and swept back into a twist held in place at the back of her head by two long, thin, emerald green hairpins, golden serpents winding up towards the tops as a nod to his armor.  He wondered briefly where she had gotten them on such short notice, and then wondered how long she had been anticipating this meeting.  A few thin pieces of hair fell to frame her face. 

"Are you ready?"  He offered his arm. 

In response, she placed her hand in the crook of his elbow, letting him lead her to the quarters of the King and Queen.   

Several folk of the court had seen them in their journey, as had many of the servants and she had seemed just as serene and willing to lend a small smile as he was.  Word would spread quickly, seemingly to both of their desire.   

"Mother, Father."  Loki greeted them both with a brief nod as he led Ilmr into their inner chamber.   

Frigga stood to greet them both warmly, as was her wont.  "My son."  She kissed his cheek before turning to Ilmr.  "Lady Ilmr."  Loki watched Frigga's eyes glimmer as she took in the sight of them and what it likely meant before kissing Ilmr's cheek as well and giving her a light embrace that Ilmr happily returned.  "To what do we owe this pleasure?" 

Odin nodded to them, but said nothing and made no move other than to sit straighter in his chair, his book closed and resting on a knee.   

Loki glanced briefly to Ilmr, resting his free hand over hers where she had returned it to his arm.  "We come to announce to you formally our courtship.  I have made my intentions known and the Lady Ilmr has accepted." 

She smiled demurely, but before she could speak, Odin cut in.  He was not wrong to call her shrewd.  She had cut Odin off in the past but knew now to hold her tongue.  A Commander indeed, she chose her battles well. 

"And what are your intentions?"  He was without preamble and as distant as ever.  Loki kept from smirking at the scowl Frigga fixed her husband with if only because it was vitally important that Odin approve.  Without his approval, there was little hope of their success. 

Loki inclined his head slightly.  "Should our courtship go well, and I believe it will, to take her to wife, father." 

"And why do you believe this?"   

He barely refrained from rolling his eyes.  His father really would make him do this.  So be it.  "Aside from her quick wit and prowess on the field?  She is one of the very few who sees my sorcery for what it is: a talent, and she is the only one to take it so seriously that she anticipates it when sparring.  She was Commander in her father's kingdom, which I know you are aware of, and she is possessed not only of a title but of kindness and a great beauty."  He left off any mention of grandsons, for now. Odin would deny them purely on the basis of being too heavy-handed and false.  

He was quiet for many long moments before turning his singular gaze to Ilmr.  "And you, my lady.  You so quickly accept the advances of my second son?"   

It sounded too close to an insult for Loki and he felt himself bristle inwardly, jaw working.   

She smoothed her hand over his forearm, having felt him tense as she spoke.  "I would, Allfather." 

At the motion of his hand, she continued.  "I do not need to inform you of his great intellect.  The number of those who could match him in his talent could likely be counted on one hand.  Few aside from Thor can match him in battle.  But most of all, he kind. I could ask little more in a suitor or a husband."   

"Kindness?"  Odin sounded surprised.  Loki felt the need to crack his jaw but refrained for the time being.  Frigga seemed to be trying not to smile too wide. 

Ilmr nodded, her tone resolute.  "Yes, kindness.  He takes the time to understand me and consider my opinion and sees me as an equal in the arena."  She paused momentarily.  "And he has made a point to be assured of my well-being when he has been concerned for it, whether or not I have indicated I was in need of attendance."   

Odin raised an eyebrow, silent for a long while.  To her credit, Ilmr did not budge or flinch under his gaze.  Finally, Odin turned to his wife, who was fair quivering with anticipation. "What say you wife?" 

She gave him a withering look.  "I say, husband, that you are drawing this out unnecessarily and enjoying it too much.  Send word to Egil of Vanaheim of this courtship and dismiss them so that they may continue on to the banquet hall and receive felicitations from their friends." 

Odin cracked a brief smile that Loki was not entirely sure he wasn't imagining.  His face darkened not a moment later, turning back to Loki and Ilmr.  "I do not know that this is wise." 

Her face was still a calm mask, but Loki felt Ilmr grip his arm the slightest bit harder.  He kept his face impassive.   

Frigga gave them an apologetic look, but her tone was icy.  "Please, allow us a moment alone."   

Nodding, Loki turned and led Ilmr out into the antechamber.   

"Can you hear anything?" 

Ilmr shook her head slightly.  "No.  Your mother must have enchanted the space so that I could not eavesdrop."

He let out a low growl.  He felt her hands gently cup his neck, thumbs stroking his jaw that he realized he was clenching again.  He was so surprised by the touch that he momentarily stilled. 

"It will be alright, Loki." 

He jerked away from her hold.  "And how would you know?" 

"I don't, but I don't believe we had Odin's blessing to travel to Nidavelir in either instance. I'm certain both you and Thor have spent much of your time asking for forgiveness instead of permission.  His blessing make this easier, but it would not forbid us from consorting with one another." 

He closed his eyes, not wanting to admit that she was right.  He had a feeling her cool head would come in very useful.   

She turned from him and he followed suit, only to see the doors to his parents inner chambers opening again, a smiling Frigga on the other side.  "Please."  

This time, Loki took Ilmr's hand, a gesture which didn't seem lost on Ilmr or his parents.  "Yes?"  He watched his father with a mixture of anticipation and annoyance. 

"I will allow it."  Odin gave them a tired smile, one that Loki had seen often enough to know that while he was the Allfather of the Nine Realms, Frigga was the true final say in their family, though Loki suspected Odin was loathe to admit it.  

Ilmr tightened her hold of his hand and he returned the squeeze momentarily.  Bowing, he felt Ilmr give a graceful curtsey in tandem.  "Thank you, father." 

"My deepest gratitude, Allfather."  She gave Odin a genuine smile as she rose.   

Loki turned to face Ilmr, a small, honest smile hovering on his lips.  "Shall we?"   

She nodded, allowing him to lead her out and to the banquet hall.   

***** 

For all of his oafishness and his skill at ignoring or being blind to finer details, Thor smiled rather wide when he spotted his brother leading Ilmr into the hall, a hand over hers in the crook of his arm.  

"Brother! Lady Ilmr!"  He rose to embrace them both.  Ilmr was happy to return the affection; Loki too allowed the closeness given the occasion.  Thor was ever the competitor, but seemed genuinely pleased for his brother despite having fawned over Ilmr some when she had first arrived. 

Thor looked between them as Loki stepped back to hold her chair for her.  "You have just come from speaking with mother and father, have you not?" 

Loki seated himself next to Ilmr, leaning over to murmur in her ear, "Do you think Fandral will be as pleased?", before looking back to his brother.  "We have." 

Thor smiled wider, looking quite pleased to see his brother appear so affectionate, not realizing it was no sweet nothing he had whispered.  "Then I am well pleased for you."  He looked to Ilmr then, his smile softening, but not fading.  "I did not have to wait as long for this day as I had suspected, you have done my brother well since your arrival, Lady Ilmr."  

Thor turned then, spying Sif and the Warriors Three and waving them over.  For once, Loki was stunned to silence at Thor's words and a glance to Ilmr found her not quite so shocked, but certainly speechless.  Seemingly without thinking, he watched her place her hand gently over his.   

"Do you see the look on Fandral's face?  He looks as though we're wed, not courting."  Her voice was quiet in his ear, just an octave above her velvet.  

Loki smirked.  "Good." 

*****  
***** 

Dinner that evening was an event unlike any she had been a part of before.  Volstagg was jubilant when he approached the table and saw her in Loki's colors, her hand in his.  The move had been as strategic as it had been unconscious.  She hoped it would not become a habit, but she did not have much hope.   

Hogun had merely nodded and smiled, his face a careful mask though it appeared a happy one.  She could not deny her similar feeling; until word was received from her father in Vanaheim, it was fairly tentative and Hogun had the same thought she did:  Egil was a fair man, but he was not necessarily kind.  He could as easily send a missive allowing the courtship as he could one denying it.   

Sif expressed her happiness, but her eyebrows and hairline nearly met, and Ilmr was not entirely convinced that she thought it was a good or lasting match.  Fandral did his best not to sulk and he succeeded well enough for those who did not notice.   

Loki noticed.  She knew, not only in his many gestures and small touches throughout the evening that were meant to -and did- goad Fandral, but in his fervor when he returned her to her room after the meal.  His hands gripped her harder, his mouth hasty and seeming to try to devour her mouth, her throat - any of her skin that was bare.   

It sent shivers over her skin and she found herself returning his attentions to the same degree.  She was not entirely sure either of them would remember to be guarded; at least, not behind closed doors.   

*****

It was three days before word returned from Vanaheim.  A servant of Frigga's came to her door and bade her meet the Queen in her chambers.  When she arrived, Loki was already there, a cup of tea in front of him untouched.   

Seating herself beside him, she looked up to Frigga.  "I assume this summons means you have heard from my father." 

Frigga nodded.  "Even so."  She held the parchment to Ilmr.   

Loki leaned over closer to her to read, his chin hovering just over her shoulder.  She wasn't sure if the move was unconscious or strategic, but apparently Frigga had not yet shared the letter's contents with him.  

_Most Esteemed Allfather and My Lady Queen -_

_Salutations and my deepest gratitude for your missive.  I am well pleased that Ilmr of Vanaheim has been a worthy ambassador of our realm._

_I have, however, many reservations about the news of her courtship and wish to caution you.  I do not know if she has shared with you the nature of our agreement; if she was able to claim a place in Asgard among it's warriors, and she has, she agreed to forsake much of her esteem in my kingdom.  She may still have royal blood and indeed still be considered royalty, even here, she is nonetheless a Princess in exile, and I wonder at what your second-son may want in her._

_If it is your will and with your blessing, I will not stand in the way of this, but I will say this: of all of my children, she has caused the most strife and discord, and I caution you to be wary of her._

_If you so bless this folly, then my heartiest felicitations._

_Egil_

Ilmr felt her blood boil and she closed her eyes, handing the letter back to Frigga.   

"Thank you."  She steeled herself for the revocation of their approval.  Her father was most adept at keeping her at arms length from her desires.  He had disliked her her whole life, but Anleifr had been a buffer.  Once he died, not only did her father place the blame squarely on her shoulders, he was not longer so covert and while she appreciated how much harder it pushed her, she did not appreciate the line he constantly crossed into downright sabotage.   

Loki breathed out hard through his nose.  "Surely you cannot think that anything but drivel, mother."  

Ilmr glanced to him before looking to Frigga, who nodded.  "I have yet to see anything resembling his words; I will not rescind my blessing.  Nor will I let your father."   

Loki visibly relaxed, finally lifting his tea and taking a long sip.  He was more tense than she had thought he would be.  And it was clear, now that Frigga had reassured them, that he was able to let go the nerves he had begun to fray since she called him to her chambers. 

***** 

Courtship in Asgard was much different than Vanaheim, she knew.  In Vanaheim, it was much more a casual affair that did not require a formal announcement unless a betrothal was forthcoming.  In Asgard, it was much different and she was still adjusting, though she knew full well what she had agreed to.  In Asgard, as much as trysts and dalliances were the norm, so too were the formal announcement of courtships, which were fairly akin to a betrothal; unless there were some egregious action or affair, it was standard, from what she knew, that an announced courtship would follow eventually into a betrothal and a marriage.   

She thought, from time to time, that perhaps she had acted too rashly, too quickly.  She had been in Asgard a month and already, as far as the members of the court were concerned, practically betrothed.  It made her chest tight when she thought of it, panic clawing at her throat as she lay awake in bed some nights.   

He was advantageous to her, a Prince of Asgard; skilled in battle and nigh unequaled in his sorcery.  He was handsome and the smell and taste of him becoming so familiar.  But still, she sat up many nights terrified that she acted too quickly.  Anleifr would scold her, for behaving so.  For not thinking through all possible ends more thoroughly.  He would be disappointed. 

And yet, perhaps not.  Perhaps he would be proud of her, for finding one so skilled and intelligent.  Someone so attentive and calculating, someone who could stand beside her, someone that could protect her, if she ever had a need of it.   

Most of all, perhaps he would be glad for her, because she felt as though a smile came easier, because she felt a tension deep within her begin to ease.   

That made the panic rise most of all.   

If courtship in Asgard was almost always a sure lead-in to a betrothal, she would make sure it was no short lived period.  She had already been foolish once and was still foolish; especially when he kissed her just right, moaned just so in her ear.  She could not afford to be so foolish again.  


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight – Seeing Worth**

A/N:  Oh man, sorry this is going up late!  I had it all finished and then decided to add another seven pages _because of reasons_.  I also nearly used the Mulan “Be a Man” song lyrics for this chapter.  I’m not _quite_  sure how I restrained myself.  Instead, lyrics in this chapter are from David Usher’s “Black, Black Heart”.  This chapter switches perspective as well; it starts off with Loki and after the double break, switches to Ilmr.

Please Note:  This chapter has some Adult Sexy Time.  For those of you who don't wish to read that sort of thing, I have placed tilde's before and after it, so you can avoid that section.    

 

 _Something ugly this way comes_  
 _Through my fingers sliding inside_  
 _All these blessings all these burns  
_ _I'm godless underneath your cover_

 

It had been nearly a month since the announcement of Loki’s courting of Ilmr, and he had begun to notice something: she had not been sleeping; or if she had, she had not been sleeping well.  He was not sure why, and he knew that others did not notice, but he could tell she was wavering.   

He had thought she was unusually grumpy one morning but didn't think much more of it until he had wandered to the arena.  She had kept up perfectly fine with the usual drilling.  It was Cuyler's additional training that made her exhaustion show through.   

Since the courtship became common knowledge, it seemed to Loki as though the Commander pushed her further.  He was loathe to step in, though he wanted to; she would be livid and while he did not fear her anger, he did think it would take more time to soothe than he would like.   

He watched her complete her final of two hundred laps before dropping into push-ups.  Three-thousand, if his ears had served him from his distance.  He could not let her know he was there; that too would raise her ire too much.   

"She works exceedingly hard."  Odin's voice sounded beside him and Loki turned to his father briefly, his surprise only showing in the lifting of an eyebrow. 

"Yes." 

"She was Commander in her realm, you know." 

"Yes."  Loki refrained from rolling his eyes, but just barely.  That had been something Loki made a point to mention to his parents at the announcement.  Odin seemed to think that the silence in his own relationship meant that most did not converse with their spouses, either.  Or rather, soon-to-be spouses.   

Odin turned his eye on his second-son at his clipped tone.  "You approach this in earnest, don't you?" 

Loki wanted to refute.  To scoff and tell his father off for daring to think that he may have some inkling of true affection for her.  He remembered that that was exactly what everyone was meant to believe.  He realized that it was not entirely an act.  "I do indeed.  Did you think I did not?" 

Odin smiled slightly.  "I do not know what to think most of the time, when it comes to you."  He laid a heavy hand on Loki's shoulder.  "I ask because you moved entirely too quickly.  If this is some trick of yours, some game, end it now before it becomes bigger than you.  I will not tolerate insubordination, not in this case."   

Loki felt his jaw crack he clenched it so tight.  "If it is my wisdom you seek in political matters, not Thor's, or even your councilmen when it comes to it, then I think it best you trust me in this, father.  I know the value of her." 

Odin observed him so long Loki almost felt uncomfortable.  "I will believe you when it bears out, you do not often seem to know the value of more than your tricks." 

He turned then, and strode back from whence he came, leaving Loki to stew in his rage and bitterness.   

An hour later, he could still feel the anger boiling beneath his skin, rolling off of him in waves.  He could see that Ilmr was still not finished with her push-ups.   

Except she was, and had been.  And was lying in the dust.   

He found his anger bottled then, and he made his way hastily to her.  She had for so long not shown any inkling of bother with Cuyler's extra drilling that none bothered to stay around to watch her punishment for being who she was.  He was grateful for her sake - she would not have wanted any audience to her current state.  Realizing this, he cloaked them both in invisibility as a precaution.   

"Ilmr."  He crouched by her, moving sweat-soaked hair from her forehead.   

She twisted her face away.  "I am catching my breath, I will be ready in a half hours time to go with you to the clearing." 

"You are not well."   

At this, she lifted her face, one cheek a dusky brown from the dust.  "I am not _ill_ , I am _tired._ "  She forced herself to her feet, tapping her boots against the ground in an effort to keep him from noticing her shaky limbs.  "If you could give me but a half hour, perhaps three quarters of an hour, Vidar and I will be ready." 

He held his arm for her to take.  Whenever they went someplace together, it was always hand-in-arm.  It had been meant not only as a show of courtship, but he knew the constant, physical presence would have an affect on her mind.  She would associate his presence more quickly with security and comfort and be much more willing to trust him much sooner without realizing it.   

He had not been mindful of the fact that her physical presence would have a similar affect on him, as well.   

She refused his arm.   

Clasping his hands behind his back, he walked with her towards her chambers.  She was very observant, only taking a few moments once they were in the halls around others to realize he had cloaked them; he watched her let her shoulders sag slightly.  Allowing him to see her in any way other than alert, other than ready and on-point, was something new that he noticed not a fortnight past.   

"Why have you not been sleeping?" 

She jerked her head around to him.  "I have been sleeping."

"Not well.  Why?" 

She loosed a frustrated sound.  "After I have a bath, please? I cannot bear my own stench another moment."   

He laughed briefly, holding her door for her and releasing his enchantment as it shut behind them.  "I will wait.  And you do not smell quite as bad as you think you do."   

She hurried away from him, a bark of laughter echoed from her bathing room as she closed the door behind her, and it was nearly an hour before she emerged.  The scent of vanilla and curls of steam followed her out.   

She had recently acquired a deep green dressing gown and robe from Frigga, who had insisted upon gifting her with something for the apparently momentous occasion.   

His mother was so taken with the notion that one of her sons was seriously courting someone, he was surprised Ilmr's chambers were not overflowing with gifts.  As it was, Frigga was grinning wider and more easily than usual and when Loki could not find Ilmr, he had learned to check Frigga's chambers, where he usually found the two.  Ilmr seemed to relish it as much as Frigga did, and for that he was indebted to her; his mother was the only one who truly seemed to pay him any mind or have faith in him unquestioningly.  To see her so happy, he was ever grateful to the source.   

Ilmr seated herself beside him on the settee, tucking her legs underneath her so that she half-faced him.  Her skin was rosy, the water had been so hot, and beads of water flecked her face and chest as it dripped from her hair. He toyed with an errant strand, the auburn a dark brown now that it was soaking.   

"Why have you not been sleeping, Ilmr?"  He nearly disliked how well his attempt at drawing her trust and closeness with his physical presence had worked on him as well because of her constant nearness.  Nearly.  

She was quiet several long minutes, deciding what to say.  "The ritual is not the same in Vanaheim, that is all." 

He felt the itch to reach out and touch her in some way.  He knew he should not; it would only endear him to her further and he was having enough trouble as it was keeping his head, no thanks to her small sounds when they were alone together and the enveloping, nearing on comforting, scent of her.  But it would bring her that much closer to him; make her that much more trusting.   

Bringing an arm up, he led her gently to him.  He was surprised to feel her follow his pull without resistance, leaning her head against his shoulder, a hand lying idly against his thigh.  He felt her sigh and relax further.   

"Are you sure, that is all?"  He spoke into her hair before placing a kiss there, not knowing what else to do, but feeling as though he should make some other move to comfort her despite himself.   

"Fenrir has taught you as much as you have taught him."  

"What do you mean?"   

"I mean you would not have thought to do such a thing as this, maybe even considered it a grotesque show of affection, without him.  He has taught you how to be affectionate." 

Loki sniffed.  "Yes, well.  Don't go spreading the word, I have a reputation to think of."   

"I will keep it with my other secrets, then." 

She settled against him and it was several minutes before he realized she had fallen asleep against him.   

*****  
***** 

She was not sure where she was, when she woke.  She was resting against something at once hard and soft.  Her hand was resting on a black leather clad --Loki.  She had fallen asleep against him in her utter exhaustion.  She felt a hand brushing through her hair absentmindedly.   

She could feel her panic rising again.  Could feel her breathing --the hand in her hair stilled and trailed down her back to rest in the dip of her waist, giving her a gentle squeeze.   

"What troubles you so?" His voice was low and rough from disuse.   

She needed more sleep.  This was no part of her that he should or could see.  She shook her head, gathering her wits and shifting to face him.  "I did not know where I was."  She cleared her throat.  "Thank you, for staying.  You didn't have to.  Though, I think I will forego any training with Vidar and Fenrir today in favor of more rest." 

He nodded and by the guarded way he was watching her, she knew he did not believe her.   

"Truly, I am just lost in my own mind, of late.  I will be more myself once I have slept." 

Setting the book aside, Loki stood, stretching his long form even higher as he did so.  He turned long enough to drop a chaste kiss against her lips.  "I don't believe you."   

With that, he showed himself out and Ilmr allowed herself to drop back onto the settee, curling up with a pillow under her head and over an arm, doing her best not to think of how it smelled like him.   

***** 

"Princess!"  Cuyler's voice cut through the drills and all in assembly halted, waiting to see what he would ask of her. 

She raised her chin.  "Commander?" 

He glanced around as the watchful eyes of the others before finally settling his gaze on her.  "Nidavelir calls for aid; rock trolls have invaded with a force as yet unseen before.  You will lead the force against them.  Am I clear?" 

Ilmr felt like pinching herself.  Surely, he was not asking her.  She was still dreaming.  He despised her.  She nodded anyway.  "Yes, sir." 

He nodded once.  "Good.  Forego your laps and push-ups today.  I would speak with you after drilling ends for the day." 

It was a struggle, waiting for the morning to end.  When it did, she forced herself to take her time arriving at Cuyler's side.  "Sir." 

He nodded in acknowledgement, glancing over orders on the several sheaves of parchment in his hand before handing them to her.  "Here.  You leave with a contingency in two days' time." 

***** 

It felt strange, not to run endless laps or nearly lose count of her push-ups in the midday heat.  Seated on her settee with Vidar at her feet, she poured over the orders she had received from Cuyler.   

It was equally strange that he entrusted her to lead, and then wondered if it was not a way to try to set her up for failure, to try and take her down several pegs.   

They had not been wrong, when they ventured to Nidavelir over a month ago, she and Loki and the others.  The number of trolls was too small.  They were preparing for a larger-scale attack.   

The Asgardian contingency was to rendezvous with the dwarves before marching on the trolls.  A quarter of Asgard's forces would be represented there, along with the full force of the dwarfs.  It was a great amount of aid to lend, but Ilmr was more than happy to do it; as Thor had said, they would be indebted.  Ilmr knew what her price would be, when the time came.  Vidar and Fenrir would not be alone.   

"You have not changed."   

She let out a frustrated sound.  "You know I don't like when you do that!"  

Loki had realized that as long as he stayed perfectly still when he appeared in her chambers, she would not know he was there immediately. 

"It is the only way I can sneak up on you." His wry smile faded to curiosity.  "A letter from your father?" 

She shook her head, handing him the papers.  "Marching orders.  We leave in two days."  She smiled wide.  "Cuyler has put me in command of this venture." 

Loki all but snatched the papers from her, scanning their contents before holding them to her with a disgusted sound. "This is madness.  They receive too much of our aid.  And the Commander puts you in charge of this endeavor." 

She bristled at that, her back ramrod straight, eyes hard.  "Can you think of one better than I?  Because if you can, I suggest you seek out the Commander immediately." 

"That's not -I didn't mean it in that way, Ilmr.  I think he is setting you up." 

She scoffed.  "Of course he's setting me up." 

"Then why are you--" Loki stopped himself, sitting down hard and glaring at her over the fist he pressed to his mouth.   

"Because a Commander doesn't lead from behind, Loki! If I want to take Cuyler's place, I need to do it the same way I did it in Vanaheim.  The only difference now is that you know of me and so it matters to you.  I will not stand down.  I leave in two days, and I will need you to look after Vidar while I am gone."   

He was fuming, she could see it, his eyes a shade darker than usual in the way that meant he was either angry or aroused.  She returned his glare.  He would not sway her in this.  He wanted the throne and she would help him get there. She wanted to be Commander, and he would not stand in her way when it came time for her to act.   

"You will return of your own abilities, not carried or otherwise incapacitated.  Am I quite clear?" 

Ilmr could only nod at his tone, at once forceful and urgent.  "And you will look after Vidar." 

He only nodded, sweeping out of her chambers and letting her doors close hard behind him.   

***** 

She left her chambers only for brief meals the remainder of her time in Asgard.  Otherwise, she buried herself in maps and topography, history of both the dwarves and the trolls, and any tiny bits of information she could find on Nidavelir as a whole.   

Vidar had seen her behavior too many times to mistake it for anything but what it was, and she felt guilty that he was getting excited as the hours passed, thinking he would be able to go with her.   

By the time she laid down the night before departure, she felt as though every free space in her head had been filled with any pertinent knowledge she could find.  He would be angry, but Ilmr had decided to wear her Vanirian armor rather than her Asgardian armor; it would not slip in the same way and once she returned, she would get her Asgardian-issued kit re-fit.  In the meantime, Cuyler could have as many fits as he wished.  

As she approached the edge of sleep, she felt her bed sink and a hand trailed down her shoulder, stopping only when it reached the curve of her hip.  "Do not draw this campaign out."  His lips brushed her ear as he spoke. 

"And if I do?"  She didn't move, enjoying the weight of his hand and his chest against her back too much, despite part of her mind screaming at her to move for that exact reason.  That part of her mind got quieter each day. 

He dragged his teeth down the shell of her ear.  "If you do not, I will be cross.  And," He had realized by now that his moods would not sway her one way or another, apparently, "If you do not, it is more reason for more troops to be sent in.  Along with Thor and myself." 

At that, she did turn, lying on her back to glare up at him.  "You cannot take this from me." 

"And I won't." He did not move his hand from where it fell low against her stomach at her turn.  "Provided you do not draw this out unnecessarily." 

She did not get to finish her growl of exasperation, as Loki had leaned down what little distance there was between them and kissed her, slipping his tongue into her mouth at the first opportunity.   

Turning away from that diminishing part of herself that resisted, Ilmr reached up to have a hold in his hair at the nape of his neck, keeping him close.  He pushed the kiss deeper at that, rolling over to brace his weight solely on his forearms over her.   

She trailed kisses down his throat, savoring the salty, sweet taste of him, the subtle scent of leather mixing with that of his skin.  She was not permitted to get far, finding herself swimming in the taste of his mouth again before she could think, his fingers sliding along her thighs under her nightdress.  It was the green one Frigga had gifted her that she wore often because she told herself she liked it; not because, actually, Loki seemed to like it very much.   

His mouth followed the line of her jaw, down her throat and across what skin of her chest the gown did not cover, his tongue and teeth interrupting as often as possible.  She had slipped a hand underneath his tunic, pressing her hand against his skin, feeling the muscle underneath shift as he rocked his hips up against hers, now half-exposed with his hands splayed out across her back as he gripped her hips.   

The moan he elicited from her was followed by another longer, lower one she could not check feeling the slight press of him between her thighs become much harder.  She was also unable to keep from rolling her hips up against him, smiling to herself when she felt him groan against her skin.   

She leaned her head down, speaking against his ear.  "Would you like to see my scars, now?"  His sudden vice grip was the only answer she received.   

~~~~~~~~~

He let go of his grip as quickly as he had taken it, hands skimming down to her thighs, one tracing the scar up as high as it went, letting her gown bunch further on his arm, the other tracing a decidedly different path along the inside of her other thigh.  Just as his fingers on one hand reached the top of her scar and curled around her waist again, the pad of his thumb on his other hand pressed down hard against her clit and ground out a single, hard circle.   

She clapped a hand over her mouth not a moment too soon, by her estimation, as the next thing she knew the heat of his mouth met the heat between her legs.  She didn't even remember noticing him move.  She didn't remember much, actually, aside from his thumb making those hard, slow, maddening circles and his tongue licking along her, inside of her, sometimes in slow, hard strokes and other times in fast, short movements.  The sensation kept building until she felt her whole body shake and the sensation burst and spread from between her legs to her entire body, and then a sense of relaxation took over her muscles with each one the sensation passed through.   

He leaned back up to her height, wiping his bottom lip as he did, a sly smile on his face. "You know, I think I may have gotten a bit distracted." 

Ilmr let out a breathless laugh.  "I think I'll forgive you.  In fact..." she leaned up, pressing a hand to his chest and guiding him to his back under her, her other hand untying his trousers.  "...I may even thank you for it." 

As she trailed light kisses down his chest and stomach, she heard him let out a quiet laugh and an "If you wan--" before he took in a sharp breath just as she took him into her mouth, her hand wrapping around him.  She kept a tight grip as she worked her hand up and down his base, her tongue massaging along his length.  A wriggle of the tip of her tongue to the underside of his head earned her a hand fisted hard in her hair.   

If she could have, she would have smiled around him, taking her time and teasing up and down his length and his head, at times feeling as though she might lose a good amount of her hair he held to it so tight in both pleasure and frustration.  Many, many minutes later, his length slick with saliva, she teased the skin between his shaft and his sac with her tongue before winding her way up along the veins, taking him wholly into her mouth when she reached his tip.  She hummed around him, letting the underside of her tongue work around his head.  That was enough to shred the last of his control and she felt him twitch in her mouth and the warm, salty taste of his climax.  

~~~~~~ 

The hand in her hair swept down around her neck and under her chin, guiding her back to his height.  "You are particularly good at that, for someone who hasn't done it before."   

A smile hovered over her lips.  She knew, despite his best efforts -which were abysmal- to hide it, that he was entirely too possessive for his own good.  If she wanted to know exactly how he truly felt, she knew there was no better, truer test than that of his jealousy. 

"Who said I had not done that before?" 

He seethed.  "What?" 

"If you think I've gone almost a millennia without seeing what at least _some_  of the fuss was about, you're mistaken."   

He was not asking when he spoke. "Who."   

She shrugged. "We were recruits together, shortly after my father could not deny that I not only belonged in his army, but should be in line to eventually Command it. I admit; it was centuries ago."  It was certainly not untrue, but it was undoubtedly not the best way to impart the information.  To force his hand, it was. 

"A name, Ilmr."   

"Why?"  She leaned back slightly.  "What would you do with that name, hunt him down?  Let me save you the trouble: he was wed nearly three centuries ago.  I don't think he poses a threat to you at this point, especially not given the current circumstances." 

"That is not why.  You belong to me, and I--" 

"--I _belong_ , Odinson, to myself."  Her tone was flinty and his eyes reflected the same back at her.  "I am sharing myself with you.  You would do well to remember that and reign in your jealousy."  His jealousy spoke more of how he actually felt more than anything else would.  Whether he was aware or would ever admit to it, she wasn't sure. 

He leaned in until they were nose to nose, his rage seeming to give heat to his breath.  "You would do well to remember that you agreed to this courtship.  From that time, you have been under my purview, my protection, and as far as Asgard is concerned, you are my future wife.  You would do well to remember that my jealousy is a privilege."   

"Your jealousy is a favor I should thank you for, then?  Why does it not feel like it?"  

He closed his eyes, his nostrils flaring as he took in several calming breaths.  When he opened his eyes again, the anger still swirled behind his eyes, but his voice was the same smooth tone she recognized as his most persuasive.  "It is.  You cannot deny that you are one of the very, very few who I allow to see beyond my mask.  To think that such a thing would not have a consequence of any kind is absurd." 

She was the only one, as far as she had seen, allowed to see past his feigned indifference.  Even his mother was not able to access -at least, not as easily as she- his emotions and expressions.  If easily was even the word to use in this instance.  "If you insist on being so jealous, do not penalize me for something long before you; for the actions of another.  If you insist on being jealous, at least make the display one more becoming of you and your station." 

"And how would you suppose I do that?" 

"Thor is not the only Odinson to have charmed many a lady into his bed; you know as well as I: a kind word and a gentle touch will get you what you want quicker than bitterness." 

"Is that why you are not jealous?" He sounded petulant and a little haughty.  He did that, she had come to realize, when he thought she was being pedantic.   

She smiled, smoothing hair back from his forehead, ignoring his attempt to shift away from her touch.  "No, I am not jealous because it is not how I choose to show my affection." 

He made a sound that was meant to show how absurd he thought it was that she thought he was trying to be affectionate.  Ilmr thought it came off more nervous than he intended.  Loki must have thought so, too, because he swung himself up and out of bed, heading for her door.  

"Be sure to come by when you wake to bring Vidar to your chambers." 

He paused by the door, hand hovering over the handle.  "What?" 

"I will be gone by the time you wake.  Vidar will be here waiting for you to fetch him once you are up." 

He merely nodded, not turning around.  "I will.  You are to return ambulatory." 

She found herself alone before she could reply.  Lying back down, she called Vidar up to lie beside her, knowing she would miss him while she was gone. 

*****

The rendezvous was uneventful and Ilmr found Lord Dgol to be all she remembered of him: canny, scrutinizing and fair.  Many of the Asgardians in the contingency she had brought found him brusque and aloof. 

One who did not, was Sif.  

Among her hand-picked guard, Ilmr had chosen Sif and Hogun to accompany her. Fandral had seem put-off but his personality, though well-meaning, would do her no favors.  She would not take Volstagg from his wife unnecessarily. 

“He does not waste time.”  She and Sif had been given a chamber to share before the combined forces marched on the trolls the next day. 

“Lord Dgol never has.  I know many find him boorish for it, but I appreciate that he does not bother with more courtly niceties, it allows one to cut to the heart of a matter.” 

Sif hummed her agreement.  Ilmr realized the warrior woman was watching her as she went about an abbreviated version of her evening ablutions. 

“Do you miss him?” 

Ilmr splashed her face with water and patted her face dry instead of answering immediately. “I have yet to formally give any directive, but yourself and Hogun will lead two factions of troops. The others, I will divide between Birger, Asmund and myself.  We will rotate shifts on duty with our factions.”  Turning, she faced Sif.  “I plan to set up a ring around an area that we can use to transport injured troops to Asgard for care.” 

As she suspected, it was enough to distract Sif.  “What? How?” 

“I spoke to Heimdall before joining the rest of you for the morning meal before we left Asgard.  He agreed to do it, if I could clear a space.  Sif, it will make a difference and if we have the ability to keep it clear and well protected, I would see it done.” 

The warrior nodded.  “Then consider it done. I will speak to the others in the morning and we can devise a location and plan.” 

Ilmr waved her off, climbing into her bed.  “Don’t bother; I’ll mention it to all, including Lord Dgol.  He will not turn away the healing aid of Asgard and we could stand to have him further indebted to us.” 

***** 

Ilmr had never seen so many rock trolls in one place.  She and Loki had been chased by a great host, and the number she and Anleifr had been caught up in was large, but this company dwarfed those other experiences.  

A short, shrill, non-native bird whistle halted Ilmr.  “Lord Dgol’s forces are in place.”  She turned to Birger.  “I want your men to create a barrier behind us.  Encircle a space fifty yards in diameter.  Unless they be dwarfish or Asgardian, slay them.  You will guard our passage to Asgard’s healing rooms via the Bifrost.” 

With a nod, he gathered his men and retreated a fraction of a league; close enough to reach the battle, but far enough that they were separate.

The rock trolls had roused themselves by now, the morning light waking them. 

“Hogun, Asmund, you will flank us on either side.  Sif, you and I will lead our troops straight down the center. Dgol is in place to attack from behind and both sides, meeting Hogun and Asmund on our sides.”

With little more than a few nods, Hogun and Asmund broke away from the main contingency with their troops.  

“With any luck, this will be similar to our last visit to Nidavelir.” Sif smiled. 

Ilmr could not help herself, and smiled as well.  “One can hope.”  She did not hope, herself. “The weapons of the dwarves are well suited to battle with the trolls, and I believe our skills will suffice.” She glanced to Sif as she motioned the remaining troops forward.  “I think we will be here many weeks, however.”  The trolls were rushing to meet their advancing foes. 

With a laugh, Sif threw her weapon up, catching the fist of a troll and sweeping it aside. “One can hope.” 

***** 

A hand shook and held Ilmr’s shoulder to wake her.  The first glow of dawn outlined Sif’s features.  

Glancing to the sky a moment, Ilmr returned her gaze to the warrior. “Have your troops ready in a quarter hour’s time.” 

Sif nodded. 

They had been on the campaign for three weeks and while Ilmr trusted Hogun a great deal and had come to trust Birger and Asmund’s decisions, she trusted Sif the most; the women spent a large amount of time together, whether it be fighting or sharing a reprieve.  

The buffer around the Bifrost site held up well and Ilmr could only hope it would remain. It was essential not only to the injured, but to relations with Dgol.  He was pleased with the innovation and Ilmr knew if she could uphold it throughout the war, he would likely do whatever he could to settle the debt his gratitude would breed. 

Rising, Ilmr stretched.  She had refused the large tent typical of her station.  Any indication of her rank or title would make her a target. She wanted anonymity. Still, she could not deny that she missed her bed.  Missed Vidar and his familiar comfort terribly.  Missed Fenrir and his gangly playfulness.  

Most startling of all, she missed Loki.  

Shaking herself, she buckled her armor into place and dug waybread and dried meat from the provisions in her shared tent.  Fastening her sword and storing her daggers around her person, she strode towards the sounds of battle a short distance away. 

Each day was the same, though the strategy and attack points changed. Unless she was altering orders, she allowed instinct and muscle memory to take over, becoming no more than a flash of metal in the rising sun; a purple and copper figure in rising rock dust. 

Sif too, with her double bladed weapon, was a blur.  Ilmr had chosen well in her.  She was one of the best warriors in the realm and Ilmr was of a mind to appoint Sif as her right hand once she had gained the Commander’s position. 

The most difficult part, Ilmr had decided, was not only preserving the Bifrost site but maneuvering around the fallen trolls.  While dwarves or Asgardians might carry away their own fallen, the surviving trolls saw no such need. There was no time or strength for Ilmr’s contingency to move them, and so they battled around and on top of the fallen troll heaps. 

It made avoiding injury and gaining ground difficult.  

Thus far, they had only been able to hold their ground as the rock troll piles grew higher. It seemed to Ilmr the war would create an entirely new landscape for Nidavelir.  

By the time she was relieved for a six-hour reprieve, she felt as though she could have slept for ten.  She knew she would feel similarly until the campaign ended.  

A soldier returning from Asgard carried the latest orders from Cuyler. It was how they had devised to communicate, though as far as Ilmr was concerned it was Cuyler dictating orders that made no sense for the current conflict, and Ilmr blatantly ignoring them. As it was, they were slowly but surely defeating the trolls, though it was hard to tell among all the rubble. Cuyler could only be so furious if they succeeded. 

She tossed the orders into a fire as she passed towards her tent. 

***** 

“It seems endless, this host of trolls.”  Sif threw herself onto her cot in the tent they shared. Sif had just returned from six hours battling; Ilmr would leave in two hours for her post at the forefront of the conflict. 

“It’s all the rubble; many are dead.  They will retreat soon.”  Ilmr spoke with more confidence than she felt.  She was not sure when the trolls would relent, but a month and a half into the war and though many had been killed they seemed no less invested in their effort. 

Sif nodded. “What was it like, commanding your father’s forces?” 

Ilmr exhaled hard as she thought of how best to answer.  “Difficult.  I relished it, but it was no easy task as you well know, being the only woman. We allow our women to fight, but I was the first female Commander.  I found doubt at each turn.” 

“Why did he grant you the position, then?” 

Ilmr shrugged, again feeling grateful for her fallen brother.  “He had to.  My brother Anleifr made me the best of us, aside from himself.  He had a mind, when he would take the throne, to make me Commander; he knew he would have had no one more trustworthy.” 

A furrow creased Sif’s brow.  “And now?” 

“And now he is dead.” 

“Is that why you allow Loki to court you?  You feel as though you have nothing else?” 

Ilmr gave a small half-smile.  “No. I allow Loki to court me because he is intelligent and skilled and sees my worth, not merely a woman.” 

“And what is your worth, to him?” 

“Someone who sees more than just Thor’s brother.” 

At that, Sif fell silent.  Ilmr began to pour over reports from her officers when Sif spoke again.  “You understand one another.” 

“Even so.” 

“You do not understand him, Ilmr.  You merely think you do.  Be wary of him. I worry for you.” 

This was a conversation Ilmr knew had been coming and would be brought up again and again.  She wondered if Sif would be so concerned if she knew the truth of their plans, the whole of their reasoning. 

Giving her another small smile, Ilmr nodded.  “Thank you, Sif.  I shall be.” 

An alarm sounded through the camp and Ilmr rolled out of her bed and to her feet, grabbing her weapons as she straightened.  “Hurry.”  She did not wait for Sif before dashing out into the camp. 

They had established a series of sounds to alert the camp to various goings-on. The alarm that had sounded was to alert the camp to intruders.  

In the distance, Ilmr spotted them.  On the far edge of the camp half a dozen rock trolls had infiltrated and were laying waste to as many tents and unprepared, unarmed soldiers as they could. 

Many armed themselves quickly and rushed to the aid of their compatriots. It was unlikely they would need Ilmr’s aid by the time she arrived, but she ran anyway, the sound of Sif, among others, thundering beside and behind her.  

Three were dispatched by the time she and several others arrived. Ducking a fist, Ilmr shifted to the right and pulled a fallen guard out of harm’s way.  One of his legs had been crushed, blood pouring from the places where bone protruded from the skin. 

Casting her gaze around, she called for two of the soldiers that had rushed over. “Geir, Herleif! Get him to the Bifrost, now!” Helping them hoist the injured soldier, she provided them cover as they retreated from the melee. 

Ilmr was unsure where the trolls had gained access to the camp and so she followed them the whole way, only turning back once they had been safely retrieved by Heimdall. 

Taking in the damage done, she bent to assist the others.  “When this is cleared and repaired, we will need a post established here to keep the trolls from repeating this attack.”  She glanced to Sif.  “I want to increase off-duty watches.  We’ll move to six hour shifts:  for every six hours of battle, two hours will be spent as a sentry elsewhere around the camp.” 

Sif merely nodded.  It would mean less time to sleep, as it had been six hours battling, six hours resting. 

“That goes for all of us.”  Ilmr gave the warrior a grin.  “I’ll take the first watch in our sector, you get some sleep.” 

Brightening at that, Sif hurried to finish untangling the tent from its ruined posts. 

Ilmr glanced to the sky.  It was nearly midday on the sort of bright, beautiful day she could never have imagined battling on, as a child.  Now, it was the sort of day that made her wonder if there would ever exist a day the Norns would not touch out of respect for the holiness of sunlight.

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9 - Mongrel

**Chapter Nine - Mongrel**

 

 

A/N:  This is a bit shorter than some of my other chapters, for no other reason than while nothing super exciting happens, it does set in motion some plot points coming up in future chapters.  As with most chapters before, this one has a perspective change.  It will start off with Loki, then continue with Ilmr after the double page break.  Lyrics are from Placebo’s “Spite and Malice”.

 

 

_Looks turn to lovers, flames into fires_  
 _You look well suited like you came to win_  
 _Lust, spite and malice, your degrees of sin  
_ _Wrap me in your trauma and I may just give you mine_

 

Cuyler was livid, though he was determined to hide it his best.  Which was poorly.   

Ilmr had apparently found a way to set up enough of a buffer zone that Heimdall was able to transport injured Asgardians and dwarves to Asgard to be attended to in the healing rooms so that they could be sent back to the battlefield within the day, in the case of most injuries.   

It was so very simple an idea, but it was not one that Loki had seen employed before, and he felt a stirring within him at it that he realized after some time was pride.  For days, weeks on end, many dozen warriors would arrive in Asgard in early afternoon and return to Nidavelir the next morning.   

It had been six weeks, and none of the injured bore Ilmr's face.  She was true to her word, at least.  Vidar had finally settled, though for a fortnight he would pace at night no matter how much exercise Loki gave him during the day, no matter how much of a playful distraction Fenrir proved.   

Loki couldn't blame him.  He was going mad, himself.  Partly because he did not want to believe, or perhaps admit, that he felt the same way Vidar did.  She had only been in Asgard two, maybe three months before the campaign began, but in that time, she had burrowed her way under his skin.  It was frustrating.  It was infuriating.   

It was lonely. 

He had grown so used to her presence, to having someone to turn to that would have a kind word or a smile for him, that it was hard to go back to the life he had lived for a millennia before that.  The one where he was ignored and derided.  It rekindled the fire of hatred in him for his fellow Aesir, now that he had no one to distract him from it.  No one to remind him that some folk in the Nine Realms were not as awful as all of those who stood before him.   

***** 

Reports came in weekly and from the sound of them the rock trolls, though countless, were beginning to thin and were being beaten back slowly but surely by the constantly replenished dwarfish and Asgardian forces. 

Alfheim had returned a missive Odin had sent requesting aid so as to speed the end of the conflict.  Loki was with his father and his father’s council when the letter arrived.   

Odin glanced over it, his frown deepening.  At the murmurs of his council, he spoke.  "Alfheim will not send aid."  He tossed the short note aside. 

Loki snatched it up, scanning the contents. 

_We are unable to send aid.  While relations with Nidavelir have improved, they have not done so to the extent that we are willing to risk so many of our warriors against the iron of the trolls when it is clear your forces are doing a fine job.  Were they marching on Asgard, it would be a different matter entirely._

Iron.   

Ilmr. 

He had not seen her among any of those taken to the healing room in the month and a half it had been since the start of the conflict, but he also knew she was stubborn.  Loki knew they would have had iron, but he hadn't thought much on it beyond knowing it would be present.   

Loki had mocked Thor not three days before for seeming entirely too itchy to join in the fray.  It had been forbidden, after a particularly long -private- audience Cuyler had had with Odin.  Loki found it highly suspicious.  Now he was as impatient as Thor.   

He despised the feeling, when he remembered he wanted to.  When he didn't remember, he found himself having altogether too many emotions about the entire thing: he was concerned, he was lonely, he was anxious, he was angry; he was finding her far, far too much to his liking.   

*****

Ten weeks.  Ten weeks into Ilmr's absence and a servant was sent to him, asking that he attend the throne room immediately.

Gritting his teeth at himself, he made his way hastily there.  He was hopeful, he was worried, and he was so very angry with himself for both of those feelings.  Sweeping in, door flung wide and greatcoat settling behind him, he watched his father turn his eye to him and off of the warrior in front of him.  

Dirty and slightly disheveled and with several more marks to her armor -her Vanirian armor- she stood, one side of her mouth lifted at the sight of him.   

She was back. Forgetting himself, forgetting his _father_ , Loki took several long strides and placed himself in front of her, cupping her face in his hands, speaking under his breath as his eyes swept over her features.  "Let me have a look at you."  

She looked exhausted and bloodstained, but whole and her eyes held no pain.  He felt a hand close around one of his wrists, giving it a gentle squeeze.   

"Ambulatory." She had missed him; it was one short word, but it was all velvet. 

The breath of a laugh that escaped him died on his lips as Odin cleared his throat.  Letting his hands fall from her and stepping away, he regained himself and turned.   

"You requested my presence?" 

Odin merely nodded. 

He raised his eyebrows, shaking his head slightly. "...Why?" 

Cuyler stormed into the room and placed himself immediately in front of Ilmr, eyes raging.  In his anger he seemed to forget Loki at her right. 

Odin watched from his seat on the throne, giving Loki a meaningful glance.  This was why.  Odin did not know her like Loki did and while he anticipated the Commander's belligerence, he did not realize the steel she was made of in the way Loki did.  Loki smiled to himself.  Odin would see.   

" _What_  were you thinking?" He hissed.  He towered over her, nearly the same height as Loki.  She did not budge, face impassive as she watched him fume. "That buffer cost us dear time.  This campaign should have ended _weeks_  ago."  He glanced over her, his face growing red as he took note of her garb.  " _What armor are you wearing?_ "  He spat.  Practically screamed.   

"That buffer saved lives.  Given the choice between a longer campaign or more casualties, I will always choose a longer campaign.  You may as well accept that now; I will not tolerate any illusions on your part."  She smiled, all cool exterior and haughty righteousness.  "And I am wearing my Vanirian armor.  When last I wore what had been made for me here, it earned me a wound from an iron weapon.  I refused to return to Nidavelir wearing the same armor until I had it refit, so I wore the armor that did fit properly." 

Loki found himself nearly quivering in his want to step in.  A glance at Odin, and Loki could tell he was trying not to smile; he was enjoying this very much.   

The Commander looked her over with great disdain.  "Pity it wasn't deeper."  Loki saw red at that, though it was short-lived, such a response surprised him so much.  And there was the other reason.  Odin was testing them.  He did not believe their affection for one another was truthful. 

At Cuyler's words, she laughed, giving him a last, mirthful once-over before turning to Odin.  "My apologies, Allfather."  She cleared her throat.  "Nidavelir is returned to a state of peace.  The rock trolls have fled and we have helped to fortify the dwarves defenses."  She glanced to Cuyler, who Loki estimated was trying to decide whether he could strike her in the present company.  "My deepest apologies for the length of time I had so many of Asgard's troops away from home." 

Odin waved a hand at her words.  "I am pleased to hear of your success."  He cast his eye across the three before him.  "And, I am satisfied with your strategy.  It likely saved many that would have otherwise died, and it meant we did not have to send further reinforcements.  If at all possible," he looked to Cuyler, "I request one such buffer around a Bifrost site at all other campaigns in the future." 

Cuyler trembled with rage. Ilmr straightened but remained impassive save for a small smile.  "Thank you, Allfather.  I am honored to have served Asgard -and you- honorably." 

Odin dismissed them.  Once outside the great doors to the throne room, Cuyler whirled on her, again seeming to be unaware of Loki's presence.  He was fast losing patience for the man.   

" _You_  will not lead a force again.  Anywhere.  Not _only_  did you defy my direct orders on _multiple_  occasions, you _dared_  to wear the regalia of another realm while representing my warriors?"   

She remained calm. Loki did not know how, but her cool head in the face of such would come in very handy, as his plans progressed.  "With all due respect, your orders for Asgard's warriors were bad orders." 

The Commander was nearly standing on her toes.  Ilmr did not budge.  "I am Commander for a reason, you will obey my orders, as my subordinate." 

"You were not there." Her eyes flashed, but her voice was steady and maddeningly placid.  "They were good orders, but not for this battle.  You kno--" 

"-- _You will learn your place, mongrel_."  Cuyler ground the words out, his face twisted in such a way that Loki thought he might spit at her. 

Her eyebrows shot up, but she remained otherwise unmoved. "I see."  She nodded to herself.  Loki felt his rage building.  "If you wish for this to be an antagonistic relationship, Commander, consider your wish granted."  She walked off, leaving the Commander rooted in place in his fury.  "Oh," She turned her head back.  "If the Allfather demands my presence at any other conflicts, there is _nothing_  you will be able to do to stop me." 

She strode off, leaving the Commander red-faced and Loki attempting to keep from crushing his windpipe.  Instead, he settled on threatening him.  Cuyler thought himself most intimidating, but he had not crossed the God of Mischief before.   

"A suggestion, Commander."  Loki's voice began, sickeningly sweet, before dropping into a deadly quiet tone, dripping with hate and venom.  "Should you speak to her or of her like that again, I will destroy you." 

The Commander laughed, seemingly purely to get a rise out of Loki.  The laughter died as Loki's expression remained serious.  After several long seconds, Loki continued.

"I will slip into your mind; I will tear it apart bit by bit so that you can only watch as you destroy your own life, your own _reputation_ , until you are a beggar on the streets.   Until there is nothing left of you but a broken, wailing madness held captive in a shell that used to look like you." 

Cuyler was dead silent, his face an unusual pallor.   

His mouth curved into a manic grin, Loki turned and left. 

***** 

He found her in his chambers, just as he suspected.  She was lying on her back on the floor in her full armor.  From the look of the scene, Vidar had tackled her and was lying on top of her, nuzzling and licking and play biting and making a low, rumbling noise that Loki imagined was an expression of joy.   

She was smiling, petting him, snuggling him, and batting him away in turn.  Fenrir paced back and forth just beyond them and whining.  He had missed her as well, Loki realized.  He had gotten so used to her daily presence that though he didn't miss her as much as Vidar had, Fenrir was very attached to her.   

"How was war?"  

She tilted her head back to see him where he had sat himself in a nearby armchair.  "A means to an end."  She smiled. 

"Oh?" 

She wriggled out from under Vidar, producing a much-folded letter from the bust of her armor.  "The dwarves are aware the decision regarding the Bifrost and the use of the healing rooms were mine.  Lord Dgol is also aware of the fact that I will be Commander of Asgard's army one day." 

Loki raised his eyes to hers as he finished reading the missive.  "You secured rights to the Cailean as a personal favor from him?" 

"Even so.  It will be valid upon my promotion to the title.  We will not need to sneak in and out of the realm and the dwarves are especially good at seeking out the dens." 

He laughed.  He could have kissed her.  He _wanted_  to kiss her.  He had chosen so well.  "I don't believe you catalogued this particular piece of information to my father." 

"I did not.  It is a personal favor, and had he known, he would have told the current Commander. I think you know as well as I do how he feels about Vidar." 

_Mongrel_.  Loki bared his teeth.  "He will not speak so again."

A hand under his chin brought his gaze up to hers.  "I would use your bathing room, I feel rather dirty, rather tired, and rather sore."  She raised an eyebrow.  "Would you like to join me?" 

*****  
*****  

She wasn't sure what she expected, when Loki arrived in the throne room, but it hadn't been his hands, gentle and insistent as he looked her over to his satisfaction, looked her in the eye to be sure she was not harboring pain silently.  It had been more than two months since she'd seen him last and she felt it must have been her exhaustion, but he looked more handsome than she remembered, made her wonder why she had questioned whether he had been the right choice for her ambitions.   

And then Commander Cuyler arrived.  

She knew he had set her up for failure, but with two small phrases she realized he had meant more than failure.  He knew of the trip to Nidavelir that she and her friends had taken.  He had set her to the task of commanding the force to aid the dwarves in hopes that one of the trolls' iron weapons would send her to Hel.  

***** 

The warm bath water soothed her muscles.  That was her favorite part of returning from a campaign: a warm, leisurely bath and her own bed.  Though this time, she thought, Loki's bath and bed would be a suitable substitute.   

She had tucked herself in against Loki in his massive bath.  Leaned against the wall, he had an arm outstretched along the rim, the other hand laid around her waist.  Resting in the crook of his arm, side pressed against his chest, she relaxed, enjoying the scent and feel of him after so long.  She reminded herself only once to keep her head.   

"I thought Vidar was likely to go out of his mind.  I was running out of ways to keep him distracted and entertained."  His voice was soft and she could feel his breath move her hair.   

"I have never been apart from him for this long before."  Ilmr had been just as unsettled without her great hound and his gentle, looming presence.  She tilted her head back so that she could see him better.  "What have I missed, in my absence?" 

He made a noncommittal noise in his throat.  "Fandral bedded nearly a score of women, in his distress, Volstagg's wife is expecting, so I hear, and you had Sif and Hogun with you."   

It was true.  She had requested Hogun and Sif especially, and it seemed Fandral, in his upset, took to the company of many a maid to soothe himself.   

"And what of you?" 

"What of me?" He did this when he didn't want to reveal himself, when she had caught him off-guard.   

She didn't think she did, in truth.  He was too skilled a Liesmith to be caught unawares by the likes of her; yes, she was intelligent and had some wit, but she held no illusions that they were anything compared to his.  He was always three steps ahead of any others.   

"Did you enjoy the bit of freedom my absence afforded you?" 

"Freedom?" 

"Will you parrot me evermore?"  She laughed.  "Yes, freedom.  Since you began courting me publicly, you have had to attend to me in some ways you can't be particularly fond of: more obliging and outwardly affectionate than I think you would like to be.  For me to be away frees you from the duties for a time." 

He lifted his arm from the rim of the bath, moving it through her hair gently.  Again he was affectionate, though now his father wasn't there to see it.  Fenrir was doing him well; without the pup, Ilmr was unsure whether he would know where to begin with earnest -or seemingly earnest- physical displays such as this.   

"The only thing courting you requires is that you wear my colors at important events of state and that I do not consort with other women.  The rest is my choice, is your choice." 

Ilmr nodded.  Another thing that was different between such things in Vanaheim and Asgard.  She was aware of how it was in both realms, but it was different to know of Asgard's customs and to live them.   

In Vanaheim, there was more decorum and many more duties involved for both parties.  In Asgard, it was not so, though more Asgardian courtships led to marriage than Vanirian.  For the Princes she expected it would be more like it was in Vanaheim, but apparently not.  Apparently, he felt either the need to act in a way she would be more familiar with, or, perhaps more startling, he _wanted_  to act in such a way.   

She felt her panic rising despite her weariness, the pace of her pulse picking up and an inability to swallow that felt more like the tamping down of a scream.  She kissed him instead, leaning back into him and pushing the kiss as deep as he would let her, drowning the panic in the taste of him, latching it back inside her heart, her stomach, by the hand that gripped around her waist tighter.   

***** 

Her sheets were not black.  She did not invite Vidar into her bed for a cuddle because she missed him.  She-- 

Loki.  She was in Loki's room.  In Loki's _bed._ And not alone.  And decidedly not clothed.   

"You are awake entirely too early for someone who has just returned from battle."  His voice was rough and low.  She considered it a testament to her remaining willpower that she did not shiver at the sound. 

"I am also entirely too unclothed for someone who is not yet betrothed or wed." 

He groaned in protest, but she found herself clad in a tunic of his before she could say anything further.  She settled her head back down on the pillow next to his, not bothering to move from where she'd been when she woke, her back pressed against his chest.   

She did not remember when she had fallen asleep.  She didn't even remember getting tired.  The last thing she remembered, truly, was sitting facing him in his lap, doing her best to ignore both his length pressing against her belly and the ache between her thighs as he slid his tongue along her lip and into her mouth, a hand in her hair holding her in place.   

And then she had woken in his bed with no other memory of the evening.   

"You made me fall asleep."   

He hummed assent.  "You were exhausted and would not see reason." 

She grinned slightly.  "You were distracting me.  You will not use magic on me again."   

"I won't."  

"I don't believe you." 

A hand snaked around her waist, crushing her closer against him.  "Good." 

His breathing leveled out as he fell back into a deeper sleep, though the tighter hold he had on her did not lessen.   

Whatever he may claim, she was fairly sure that the ten weeks she had been gone had left him feeling more lonely than he had been in a long time.  He seemed used to and unaffected by his solitary existence when she first arrived in Asgard, having grown used to it over the centuries.  To suddenly have the companion he had grown used to spending a majority of his time with leave for weeks on end was likely an adjustment, even a small one.   

She could not deny that she had grown used to his presence and those brief times she was able to lay down and rest while in Nidavelir, she thought of Vidar, she thought of Fenrir, and she had thought of Loki.  She had thought of him more than she wanted to admit.  Certainly more than she would willingly admit to him.  This would not bode well and if she was to keep her goal in sight, she had to be more guarded.   

Except she was failing miserably at that, given her position that she had no intention of disturbing.  She was being courted by one of the more dangerous beings in the Nine Realms and letting herself get carried away.  It would end poorly for her indeed.    

She swallowed the panic that began to rise again, and closed her eyes. 

***** 

"Where were you this morning?"  A playful smile played on Sif's mouth as she fell in step with Ilmr.  

Ilmr needed to get her Asgardian armor re-fit and Sif jumped at the chance to mill around the markets with her while they waited for it to be completed.  It was not often, Ilmr gathered, that Sif went into the markets at all, much less with another similarly-minded woman.   

"Sleeping."  Ilmr kept her features impassive, bottling the rising heat she felt trying to crawl up her spine.  She had slept, and then she and Loki had finished what he had not allowed her to the night before.  She swore she could still taste him on her tongue.   

Sif waved a dagger playfully in Ilmr's direction.  "Not in your chambers." 

The shop they had chosen was immediately a favorite of Ilmr's; the keeper had some of the most beautiful, well-wrought weapons she had ever seen.  Many had to have been imported from the elves and the dwarves.   

"No?"  She hadn't meant it to be a question, but she was so taken with a set of four throwing knives she was distracted.  They were gorgeous: perfectly balanced, the weight of the blade equal to the weight of the tang, the leather the hilt was wrapped in inlaid with golden filigree that quite literally snaked it's way towards the blade.  Once the filigree met the end of the leather, the serpent continued on, etched into the blade itself.   

"No.  I came calling for you but your maid told me you were not in your bedchamber.  After checking the arena and the banquet hall -and the library- I realized you had quite hidden yourself."   

The knives were held in place against a cut of leather with thin straps of the same.  Rolling up the set, Ilmr turned to the keep.  He acquiesced, holding the set for her while she continued perusing.  "I suppose I had." 

Sif let out a frustrated sigh.  "Will you not tell me where you were?  I was worried you had gone to the healing rooms once none were around to see.  I thou--" her sudden silence caused Ilmr to turn.  "You were in his chambers." 

Ilmr lowered her palm towards the ground slightly.  Giving a brief half nod.  "Even so." 

Three quick strides had Sif alongside Ilmr, keeping her voice low as had been requested.  "What are you thinking? You can't just--" 

"--I can, actually.  From what I gather of Asgardian culture, it would not be unseemly, especially not considering he's courting me with both our families' consent."   

She liked Sif.  She liked her very much, in fact.  She had proven a fierce warrior and a stalwart friend, the many weeks they were in Nidavelir.  They had formed such a friendship that Ilmr scolded herself for not realizing that Sif would have sought her out in the morning as she was wont to do when their shifts coincided during the campaign.  She did not like Sif's unwavering dislike and suspicion of Loki.   

"All I mean," Sif was looking over another blade, this one far more like a broadsword than the weapon she had been looking at previously. "Is that you need to be careful, with the God of Lies.  I have never seen him appear so taken with someone so quickly.  I fear he has ulterior motives."  Ilmr looked up from the hunting knife she was admiring feeling Sif's hand on her forearm.  "I worry for you, that is all." 

She wished, not for the first time, that she could trust Sif more.  That she could let her know that both she and Loki had ulterior motives to their courtship, that they both knew of the others intentions and that it suited them both just fine.  She could not, so instead she gave Sif a reassuring smile.  "I promise you, Sif, I am cautious. Loki means me no harm; we appear taken with one another because we are."  While she could not confide in the warrior woman, Ilmr did take comfort in the fact that she had not lied to her.  At least, not yet. 

Though she looked entirely unconvinced, Sif returned to her admiration of the blade she had in hand.  For several minutes at least, before the urge to speak apparently became too much.  "Do you not worry of your father's reaction, should the courtship end and he finds you have been indiscreet?" 

Ilmr was busy deciding between two sets of vambraces and she tried not to sigh.  "I am in exile, as far as my family and my kingdom are concerned.  I do not think he would be much bothered, one way or another."  She glanced up to Sif, then.  "And I do not expect the courtship to end in any way other than favorably." 

That seemed to quiet her companion, and before long Ilmr was making her way back to the smithee with Sif, purchases in hand.  

 


	10. Chapter Ten - Allowing Distraction

**Chapter Ten – Allowing Distraction**

 

A/N:  Hi everyone! Again, a short-than-typical chapter, but one I quite enjoyed writing.  Be warned, there are more Adult Times in this chapter.  I've marked it with tildes so those that don't want to read that portion can avoid it. As with other chapters, we have a perspective change.  This starts off with Ilmr and after the double page break, switches to Loki’s perspective. The lyrics in this chapter are from Kelly Clarkson’s “Addicted”. 

 

_It's like I'm not me_  
 _It's like I'm lost_  
 _It's like I'm giving up slowly  
_ _It's like you're a ghost that's haunting me_

 

It had not escaped Ilmr’s notice, despite her absence, that Loki's nameday was approaching.  She knew enough of the custom in Asgard to know there would be a feast in his honor that she would be expected to attend; dancing and feasting well into the night, nearly the same guest of honor he would be.  She had picked out the knives as her gift to him; they would befit his armor. 

"…Dear?"  Frigga's voice broke through her thoughts. 

"I apologize my Queen, what was it?"   

It had not escaped her notice in part because Frigga had waited only a week after Ilmr returned from Nidavelir to turn their visits from pleasant ways to spend the afternoon to more meaningful meetings.  Namely, planning the details of Loki's nameday.   

Frigga felt as though, since she and Loki were courting, it was only appropriate that Ilmr have a hand in the events as his future betrothed; just as Frigga planned Odin's, and as Thor's wife would, when he finally charmed his way through Asgard and found a woman who could keep his eye.   

Frigga smiled.  She had such warmth and kindness in her smile; Ilmr did not mind that the visits had become filled with more decisions than she thought a wedding might.  It made her wistful for the same experience that she had never had with her own mother.   

"I asked which you thought was best: golden linens, or emerald." 

So much in Asgard was gold and it was not necessarily Loki's color, though she understood why Frigga suggested it.  "Emerald.  And I think that lovely summer wine would be best." 

"Mmm.  I do so love it, the grapes come from Vanaheim, you know.  The same kingdom Hogun hails from." 

"No, no not the red.  The white wine.  That lovely concoction with the fruit." 

"Oh!"  Frigga laughed, turning to a servant who disappeared after receiving a nod from her Queen.  She turned back to Ilmr with a mischievous smile.  "I've had her fetch us both a glass."  Loki was so much his mother's son.   

Ilmr glanced over several sheaves of parchment.  "That should settle the meal, should it not?" 

The servant returned as they chatted, two glasses of the drink on a tray.  It was a favorite of Loki's and Ilmr found herself partial to it as well; it reminded her of one of the first times they had kissed, his mouth tasting of it.   

A knock interrupted just as they had moved on towards the entertainment.  In truth, Ilmr was relieved to have a break, they had been going over the details all week and with less than a fortnight until the day, the details were finally being cemented and she found it more exhausting than she had estimated it would be.   

"Mother, I--" Loki stopped, a smile spreading as he saw Ilmr seated with his mother. "My apologies, I didn't realize you had company." 

Frigga motioned for him to enter.  "We are finishing the plans for your nameday." 

He wandered over to stand beside Ilmr, glancing over the menu on the table, holding a hand out absently as he did.  With a smirk, Ilmr gave him her glass.  He sipped on it before speaking.  "What have you chosen for the music?"   

Frigga regarded him with a smile that Ilmr thought was barely contained euphoria.  Loki did not realize what he had done yet, but it seemed the simple sharing of a glass so easily was proof enough for Frigga that he truly cared for Ilmr.   

To Ilmr, it was proof that she was not alone in her inability to keep as singularly focused as she wished on her ambitions.  He handed the glass back to Ilmr, letting his hand fall to the back of her chair as he turned his gaze to her.   

"We haven't yet.  We were about to, but then the guest of honor himself arrived.  What would you like?  It is, after all, an event in your honor." 

He thought quietly a few moments, sighing before he spoke, giving Ilmr a grin with a similar mischief his mother had expressed not five minutes before.  "And it is upon you to plan it.  I will trust to your judgment."   

It seemed by now he realized what he had done in asking silently for her glass, given the way Frigga was still beaming, and he -at least to Ilmr- very conspicuously dropped a kiss on the top of her head before making his excuses and retreating out of his mother's chambers.   

Frigga managed to contain herself for all of half a minute.  She took hold of Ilmr's hand as she moved it to leaf through the various selections she and Frigga would hear the following day.   

"I am truly so thankful, Ilmr."  She nearly whispered in her excitement. 

Ilmr smiled at her; it was impossible not to love Frigga.  "I'm glad to be helpful, my Queen." 

"No, no." She let go Ilmr's hand.  "I mean I have never seen him act so.  He truly admires you.  I felt for so long that he was turning more into himself despite my efforts to draw him out.  He has been so different since you arrived; he has seemed so happy." 

More than Sif, Ilmr wished she could speak to the Queen about their plans.  She had come to love her in the short time she had spent in her company.  "I am glad for it, my Lady Queen, I find myself just as fond of him." 

"Perhaps instead of a nameday next year, we will be planning for a wedding."  There was no mischief in Frigga now, just earnest, hopeful happiness.   

Ilmr felt all her nerves tingle, felt the panic begin to claw up her throat by the familiar footholds it had scratched there of late.  She smiled wide at Frigga, hoping her momentary blankness looked only as if she were thinking ahead longingly.  "One can only hope."   

*****  
***** 

He was growing impatient and it was beginning to strain his sensibilities.  He had not realized Ilmr was with his mother, though truth be told he had not bothered to even glance at the servants and guards outside her chambers before he burst in, and they knew better than to waylay him.   

He had requested Ilmr's glass silently and she had acquiesced without a moment's hesitation.  It wasn't until he saw the eyes his mother was making at him that he realized what he had done.  It was a simple thing, the request and assent, but it was a physical display of their pretended closeness.   

Except it was not pretended; he had made the request unconsciously and she had answered in kind.  At least, he was fairly sure she had responded without realizing it.  He placed a kiss atop her head as he left to ensure that he not only kept up the act, but so Ilmr would not think the moment with her glass was anything but a calculated motion.   

Odin needed to announce his heir soon; Loki was sure that if he was made to wait too long, he would be utterly witless when it came to Ilmr.  That could not happen under any circumstances.  No matter that the match was calculated, that she was already on his side and more to his liking with each passing day.  No matter that even after gaining the throne, he would likely have her remain at his side as his ally, his wife, the Commander of Asgard's forces.  He could not afford distraction, not now and, perhaps, not later.   

*****

He woke on his namday as he had for many in the past several weeks: aware of a lightness that meant Fenrir had tugged his bed sheets off of him in an effort to be fed as soon as possible.   

The night Ilmr had stayed -the only night she had stayed, he noted- she laughed when she woke a second time that morning to find Fenrir tugging at the sheets and shortly thereafter, his nose snuffling her face.  Loki was glad she had not requested or attempted to stay any nights since; he had enjoyed it entirely too much and the solace he tried to take in explaining it away as simply missing her while she had been gone had only angered him further.   

_Missed_  her, as if she were somehow important to him outside of his plans.  Plans that would see him on the throne of Asgard until the end of his days.  Plans that had Ilmr Commanding Asgard's armies until the end of hers.   

With a loud, frustrated growl, he swung himself up out of bed in one fluid motion, waving a meal into existence for Fenrir so that he would not be bothered by the ever-growing pup while he bathed.   

After another fortnight of battling himself, though he tried to ignore it, part of him felt the resistance a useless waste of time.  If those were his plans -and her plans- and he did not intend to annul the marriage once he gained the throne, there was little harm in allowing himself the distraction of emotions for her.   

Because he was beginning to realize that Odin would not name an heir, not yet.  By the time he did, it would be likely long overdue that a betrothal or a wedding be announced or officiated between he and Ilmr.   

He had no doubt that his plan was working.  Frigga was beaming as if all sunlight originated in her.  Thor enjoyed her company in the arena and the Warriors Three and Sif had welcomed her into their inner circle yet respected her attachment to Loki.   

Most importantly, Odin seemed to grow ever fonder of her.  He appeared to enjoy conversing with her and had even once mentioned to Loki that she had turned out to be a better investment than he had thought.  For Loki, that was the closest thing to pride in his second-son Odin had ever expressed.   

He had little doubt that he would be named King.  He could likely afford to allow small distractions.  Especially if they meant he no longer needed a cold bath.  The realm's forces would be hers; she -and Asgard- would be his.   

A nameday gift indeed. 

***** 

Shortly before the dinner hour, the servant he had sent to fetch Ilmr appeared to announce her arrival in his chambers.  Fastening the last of the buckles on his vambraces he turned to see what exactly the gown Frigga had been up in arms about commissioning looked like.   

His mother had outdone herself.  Her vision and the skill of the palace seamstresses had yet to be outpaced.   

Loki smiled wide, holding a hand out to her as he approached.  He found that when he let affection tinge his tone, she was far more likely to acquiesce.  "Let me see you."  He turned her slowly, her hand in his, as he took in the sight of her.  

Ilmr had been dressed in a deep emerald gown that just brushed the floor. A sheer golden lace, the pattern of which imitated the design of his armor, overlaid the gown from tip to toe.  Her auburn hair had been left hanging loose and straight aside from several small pieces that had been pinned back from her face and curled.  The modest front of the gown belied the dramatic dip of the back, which laid bare her back and ended just a handful of inches above the dimples that he had found himself so fond of in recent weeks.   

"My mother has outdone herself, in this.  And she has found a beautiful model on which to display such a gown."   

Ilmr laughed, though returned his chaste kiss.  "Did you partake of the summer wine without me?  I thought we agreed we wouldn't begin the festivities until the banquet itself." 

He glanced behind at his desk, on which an empty glass stood.  "Perhaps just one." 

She hummed, seating herself on the large couch as she watched him tuck several throwing knives into various folds of leather and cloth.  "Expecting entertainment aside from the musicians?" 

"Mayhap." He gave her a devious grin as he slid the last knife up a sleeve, the motion looking far more like slight of hand than anything else.   

"Hopefully their weapons are not newer than yours." She nodded to the sleeve he had just effectively vanished a weapon into.  "Yours are looking a bit worse for the wear." 

Loki held an arm to her.  He found he quite liked her teasing, once he realized she meant none of the ill will others he encountered did.  It was one thing for the words to be a jab; it was another when it was done with the playfulness she seemed to exude.   

It was different when it was someone who didn't fear his wrath because there was no ill intent meant.  "They have served me well in many battles, not the least of which was the excursion to Nidavelir before their call for aid." 

It was his nameday, and he had decided that he would allow himself to be distracted, and given the easy way in which she took his arm and stepped slightly closer than was her wont, it seemed she thought the same.   

They were last to enter the hall for the evening meal, as the guest of honor and his guest.  The entire room was overtaken by his colors.  The heavy drapes were black velvet, embroidered with gold; tables laden with food were draped in thick green linens.  Pitchers of the white summer wine he was so fond of were on every table, ice and wedges of fruit vying for space among the pale yellow concoction.   

His father and brother wore their armor, though their capes were altered: a green piping running along the edges.  His mother wore his colors as ribbons woven intricately into her hair.  Aside from Loki, Ilmr was the only one adorned almost exclusively in green. She was ever perceptive, and he was annoyed at himself that this was still a revelation for him, from time to time.   

"Thank you for this." He kept his voice low as he held her chair for her, pressing a kiss to her temple.   

Showing such affection was not something he was fond of in front of any, never mind so many.  But just as he'd thought not a fortnight previous that Odin was taking too long to choose and name an heir, Loki realized the best pressure could come from a public so taken with Ilmr.   

The women of the court and commoners alike would swoon over the tale of the woman who was able to work her own magic and bring out a softer side to Asgard's dark prince.  Their husbands and suitors would fall in step behind them because it was easier to appease them than change their minds.  And so, though he felt his stomach roil at showing such emotion publicly at all, he knew it would bring he and Ilmr that much closer to the throne.   

***** 

Dinner was divine: all sorts of meats, and vegetables sautéed in a variety of herbs.  The summer wine was never in short supply and Loki had just enough to feel the tension within him loosen, but not so much that he lost himself.   

Enough so that when the time came for he and Ilmr to invite the guests to dance with a one of their own, he felt himself smile as he offered her his hand and led her down from their place at the high table.  They had sparred more times than he could count, once Fenrir and Vidar had been properly tired out in the clearing, but they had never danced at any of the banquets or festivities at the palace, though each night seemed another reason for grand celebration in Asgard.   

The musicians Ilmr had selected were superior, and he again was grateful for her perception and seemingly similar taste.  They struck up a lovely, lilting adagio and much to his surprise -or perhaps his expectation- she fell in step with him as if they had practiced this particular dance.  He had not taken her as one interested in dancing, but it appeared she had not been allowed to neglect her more feminine lessons while growing up in Vanaheim.   

"You are a better dance partner than I anticipated."  He was ignoring the heat of her skin under his hand, just above the fabric of the back of her dress.   

"My mother insisted that for each hour I spent in the arena, I spent an hour on more ladylike endeavors."   

He spun her away from himself before guiding her back gently.  "And how well did that end?" 

She smiled.  "After almost a year of punishment and scolding, we agreed upon one half hour of 'ladylike activity' to every hour of my time in the arena."  She slid away from him to arms length and after several intricate steps, was again so close he could nearly feel her against him.  He gripped her hand the slightest bit tighter.  "Some things I did not attend no matter what punishment I received." 

"Like?" 

"Like needlepoint, gossiping, and the art of fawning over one's suitor."  

Loki brought them to a standstill as the musicians ended the tune, a cue to others that they could join in the dancing.  He kept her close by the hand on the small of her back as he leaned in to her ear, dropping his voice to the low timbre he knew always sent a slight tremor through her despite her best efforts to remain unaffected.  "You would not fawn over me?" 

She curtsied, mischief in her eyes as she rose.  Her voice was the soft, velvety sound that made him repress a reaction of his own.  "I believe I do other things you prefer, do I not?" 

Instead of the many other things he truly felt like doing, including leaving his own celebration markedly early, he kissed the back of her hand, grazing his teeth over a knuckle before leading her back to the high table.  "I believe I would like a demonstration this evening to be sure I prefer those things." 

*****

It had taken some time, but they finally slipped out of the banquet hall alongside the King and Queen, claiming exhaustion from the preparations of the day and the unusual amount of time Loki found himself leading Ilmr around in one dance or another.   

It was his nameday and he had allowed himself to be distracted for this one day, and so once the doors to his chamber closed, he allowed himself to let his fervor creep into his kiss, allowed her to clutch at his greatcoat as she leaned up into him. 

It did not take him long to shed the coat, bringing his arms around her again hard once it fell away with a soft crumpling sound. He slipped his fingers under the hem of the back of the dress and it earned him a quiet sound as he deepened the kiss. 

~~~~~~

There was a clasp just below the nape of her neck and once unfastened, the dress fell away to bunch at the swell of her hips. He brought his hands around to the dip of her waist, holding her hard as he leaned down over her, grazing his teeth over her lips.  

Her hands made quick work of his heavier armor, eventually holding hard around his neck.  By this hold she pulled him flush against her, effectively pinning herself between he and his door.  

Loki slid hands down, coaxing the dress past her hips. With a delicious, slow wriggle of those hips, he felt the dress slide down to the floor and a growing warmth against his straining length. 

A feral growl escaped him at the sensation. He had given himself permission to be distracted.  To give in. Just for his namday. Just this once. 

And so he slid one hand up along her thigh, motioned her closer.   She acquiesced, wrapping one leg around his waist.  He lifted her then and felt her other leg around him soon after.  

He made it as far as his deep couch, letting his full weight down on her as he settled on top of her.  Her hand in his hair gripped harder for a moment before she broke the kiss and shoved him away, leaving him leaning over her on his knees. 

Ilmr gave him a wicked smile, eyes dark with heat and mischief.  She had grown particularly adept with his armor and in short order he felt first the cool evening air against his skin and then the heat of her mouth around him so quickly after he groaned.  

Loki felt her hum around him, a tight grip near his base slowly pumping while her tongue massaged along him.  Ever so gently, slowly, he felt her graze her teeth against his head and his eyes opened wide, thrusting deep into her mouth in response, a hand fisted her hair.  He tugged sharply on her hair, keeping her still as he thrust hard into her mouth. Releasing her hold at his base, he felt Ilmr closer her lips around his considerable length entirely, her hand instead moving to his sac. 

Ilmr was not like those delicate puffs of women he had had before, he remembered, as she tore herself away from him as he felt himself close in on his climax.  The others would not have been able to pull out of his grip.  Ilmr, in comparison, had reclined on the couch, the wicked smile in place. 

Loki raised an eyebrow, curiosity and mild annoyance on his face. 

With a soft laugh, she led him down to her. He felt a hand around him again and his eyes rolled back slightly when he felt her press him against her entrance; heat and wet and tight and soft greeted hard and slick.  He was unable to check the guttural sound he made in his throat. 

It was his namday and he was allowing himself an evening’s distraction.  He did not ask any questions, merely shifted his hips forward as she guided him, the quiet hiss he heard escape her as much pleasure as it was pain, from the look on her face.  

She was comfortable; relaxed, even. Many he had had first had not been so and no matter what he did they were in considerable pain; only one or two had not been very nervous and so able to enjoy themselves somewhat their first time. He continued his forward motion until he couldn’t go farther and judging by the look of only slight pain and discomfort, Loki realized it was because while she had to adjust to his size, she was also at ease with him. 

He pulled out slowly and pushed back in harder, grinning at the quiet sound she made, grazing his teeth over her lips and down along her throat so that he would not hinder any other such sounds as he continued. 

Loki watched her shift to lay the bend of one knee over his shoulder.  With a smile that was all devious pleasure, he thrust into her harder, deeper, his smile widening at the sound that escaped her and the sight of her eyes that rolled back. 

He bent, bringing his mouth to her breasts, teasing them with his teeth, letting the force of his thrusts provide sharp tugs as he held a nipple between his teeth; his hands held to her hips hard so that he did not move her out of his own reach inadvertently.   

By the sight and sound of her: arching up towards him, quiet moans and fingernails digging into his skin, he knew she was enjoying herself and he too took the time to revel in the sensation, dragging her building orgasm out as long as he could while still being on the right side of cruelty. 

When he finally decided to let her take her pleasure, her skin was slick with sweat and he did not hesitate to draw his tongue up her throat to taste her.  At that, he felt her tighten even further around him and finally shudder in her release after several more hard thrusts.  Loki laid his forehead against her collarbone and stilled.  He was not quite ready to let go and so stayed as motionless as possible so as not to push himself over the edge. 

Loki moved out of her slowly and led her over to his bed, stopping her before she could climb in.  Instead he turned and pushed her to bend with her hands on the edge of his bed; nudged one foot with his to widen her legs. He took an extra few moments to enjoy the sight of her, the swell of her behind and hips paring down quickly as his eyes roved up over her waist, taut muscle under her skin near quivering with anticipation and leftovers of pleasure as she waited, unable to see him from her angle.  

He ran his hands down her back until he reached her hips and gripped hard, moving into her so slowly he had to hold her harder to keep her from shifting back onto him in her impatience.  When he could go no further, he ground his hips hard against her, humming in pleasure when she bucked back against him with similar force. 

With a mischievous smirk she couldn’t see, Loki slid one hand around her, rubbing two fingers against her quickly just as he began a hard, fast, full-length pace; pulling out just to his tip before forcefully thrusting back into her.  The throaty, velvet sound that escaped her made him redouble his efforts, and he bent over her, sinking his teeth into her throat. 

She did not last long, so sensitive from mere minutes earlier, so when Loki felt her grip around him vice-tight again, he did not hesitate and, with half a dozen more hard thrusts as she shuddered around him, he let go and found his own release deep inside her. 

He remained buried inside of her, listening to her catch her breath quietly before shifting them up onto his bed to relax more comfortably. 

~~~~~~

After several minutes, she rolled out of bed and padded over to his couch.  He had been expecting that she would make for his bathing room.  Instead, she returned in short order with a roll of leather bound in a green ribbon.   

"For your nameday." She held it out as she sat down alongside him again. 

Curiosity got the best of him after a short hesitation and he took the parcel.  It had been many years since he had been gifted anything from anyone other than Frigga or a diplomat trying to buy favor and he found it strange that she would present him with anything, nameday or no.   

Within the leather roll laid four intricate throwing knives, masterfully wrought and beautifully adorned.  He was unsure of what he was meant to say, so instead he lifted one to inspect it.  Folded steel by the look of them, thin but heavy and with workmanship on the hilt and etching that was characteristic of a master smith.   

"These are exquisite." It seemed to fall short, to him, but he realized it had been some time since he had spoken and he felt compelled to say something.   

"I'm glad you like them; given the condition of your others I thought these may come in handy and are better suited to a future king." 

It was his nameday, and he had allowed himself to be distracted today if he wished. He set the knives aside carefully and leaned over her again, pressing her down into his mattress, hands sliding down her sides towards her waist.  

 


	11. Chapter Eleven - A Matter Most Important

**Chapter Eleven - A Matter Most Important**

 

A/N:  Oh my gosh you guys, big doings in this chapter.  This chapter starts from Ilmr’s perspective and switches to Loki’s after the double page break.  The lyrics in this chapter are from one of my favorite songs, Joni Mitchell’s “A Case of You”.  So favorite and appropriate for this that I may use it at least once more in future chapters.    

 

 _Oh, you’re in my blood like holy wine_  
 _You taste so bitter and so sweet_  
 _Oh I could drink a case of you, darling  
_ _Still I’d be on my feet_

 

It had been several months since his nameday, and Loki had been more attentive and affectionate -in private- than he had before.  She wasn't sure whether it was her gift, or the fact that he seemed to have given himself permission to be outwardly affectionate that day and had enjoyed it.   

He offered her his arm as always when they walked anywhere together, but now he placed his hand over hers from time to time.  He would pull out her chair and brush his fingers against her shoulder as he went to seat himself next to her.  If the company and linens allowed, he would rest a hand on her thigh, though that was usually when Fandral joined their table after Odin and Frigga had taken their leave.   

In private, he would brush a finger here, place a hand there, stood closer than necessity called for, both alone and in public.  More than that, though, was his tone.  There was a softness to his tone when he spoke to her now that was not there otherwise, not even with his mother.   

Ilmr had a difficult time indeed remaining clear-headed, and more often than not she failed.  More often than not, the part of her that kept her focused was quiet or ignored.  The panic subsided and instead of the familiar pit in her stomach and clawing at her throat, she felt a rush in her veins; had to keep herself composed for reasons that had more to do with keeping the flush from her cheeks than anything else.   

No matter that it seemed like both of them were losing sight of keeping clear heads, Ilmr decided.  It would be more believable if they were well taken with one another; it would make no difference in his assent to the crown and her promotion to Commander.  

And it had a most desirable effect: many women of the court seemed to think that theirs was a most rare affection, that Ilmr somehow coaxed Odin's second-son out of his dark exterior and softened his hard edges and sharp words.  There was little for the women of the court to do, and so Ilmr found her name spoken among many of the gossiping peers, heard Loki's name not a few times, and sighing over the general circumstance of their courtship.   

There was no doubt such bored interest and adoration helped, given the nature of her conversations with Frigga, of late.   

"I have heard your name often these past few months, my dear."  Frigga sipped her tea as she watched Ilmr for a reaction. 

She laughed.  "I have as well, my Qu--Frigga."  It was not a fortnight past that the Queen had requested Ilmr use her name, rather than her title.  It took some getting used to.  "Certainly, since Loki's nameday not three months ago, I think I have heard my name spoken almost as often as it was in Vanaheim, though for different reasons." 

"Folk have certainly worked themselves into a tizzy over you -and my son.  I can see why, he has been most attentive.  It makes me glad to see.  You see, I had always feared Thor would meet and marry far before his brother, if Loki ever did.  He was so …closed, so cold." 

Ilmr knew where this particular conversation was headed; it was one she and Loki had barely a week prior.  "He is a most thoughtful suitor.  Though it may irk many, I find myself quite fond of his mischief and his talent for sorcery." 

Frigga waved the attending servant away for more tea.  Turning back to Ilmr, she smiled conspiratorially.  "Now that we have a moment." She shifted forward in her seat slightly.  "While you bring out a side to Loki I have not seen the like of, I do still know my son.  I believe he intends to request our blessing for a betrothal very soon." 

It was true.  Loki had broached the subject carefully when he spoke of it earlier that week. 

 _"Are you content?"  Loki had draped himself across her settee and let his arm hang down to brush his hand through Fenrir's fur._

_She peeked over her privacy screen.  They had returned from the clearing not a half hour prior and now that she had bathed, she hurried to dress for dinner.  "In Asgard? Yes, I find myself quite content here."_

_"No, I mean with me.  It has been nearly half a year since we truly began courting.  Are you quite content with me?"_

_Ilmr kept from furrowing her brow.  It did not matter, either way.  The agreement was that he would be King with her to aid in getting him to the position, and in return, she would be made Commander, replacing Cuyler within the first few years of his rule so as not to seem suspicious.  That is, she realized, it did not matter because she_ was _content with him.  "I am."  She came around the screen, kneeling down in front of him with her back to him as he shooed Fenrir away so that he could pull tight the top laces on her bodice.  "And are you with me?"_

 _It hadn't crossed her mind to ask, but she was not especially worried; if there had been another woman in Asgard capable of getting Loki to the throne in the same way, he would have already been courting her._

_He was silent as he pulled and knotted the laces.  When he finished he slid his hands forward from her shoulders to rest her back between his legs.  He nuzzled the spot behind her ear before speaking low, the tone one she had not heard before - soft and almost comforting, she supposed._

_"Very much so."  He took a quiet breath before continuing.  Whatever was on his mind, it was delicate, or rather, he seemed to think she would react like a terrified, cornered creature.  "I ask because I wish to present you to my parents as my betrothed."_

_The panic that had been dormant for many weeks threatened to return.  She swallowed the feeling before it could take hold.  "When?"_

_"In a fortnight.  I must prepare and I wanted you to know in advance."_

_"Prepare?"  She had not hidden her panic as well as she had thought; at least, not well enough to deceive the God of Lies.  That he this useless reaction to the unfamiliarity with the custom into consideration eased her panic further._

_"I must prepare what to say to my father.  Until recently, I think he believed the courtship no more than a passing interest."  She heard a smile creep into his voice.  "And I believe there is typically a bauble involved, at this next stage."_

_She had not thought of that before and it became suddenly more real than any conversation, any planning, they had before.  It was true that it was an acceptable means to the ends they both sought.  More than acceptable, even.  It was also true that it was not the position she thought she would ever find herself in and even half a year after they had set their plan into motion, it was an adjustment._

Ilmr smiled at Frigga, raising her tea to her lips, smiling shyly over the rim.  "Do you truly think so?" 

Frigga nodded.  "Most certainly. I have seen him visiting with a smithee of some notoriety."  She grasped Ilmr's hand; in her excitement, the Queen's hand shook the slightest bit.  "I was not wrong, when we planned his nameday banquet, to say that we would be planning for nuptials within the year."   

Ilmr squeezed her hand.  Now that she had had several days to think on it, she was not as panicked, and given the mother she would gain it pleased her greatly.  She was almost happy, when she truly thought of it.  It was a strange notion.  

***** 

Loki's nameday.  That was the day she was no longer a maiden.  That was what had changed, she decided.  After that, he was far more affectionate; she would use the word _loving_  if she thought it suited.  It didn't.  Not quite.  After that day, it seemed he decided beyond a shadow of a doubt that he felt -and would allow himself to show, at least to her- some sort of fondness for her that put truth into their arrangement.   

She awaited his arrival to escort her to his parent’s chambers once again, this time without the promise of tea with his mother, but to present her for the blessing of a betrothal.  He had an eye for finer things, she had to admit, given the ring - _bauble_ , he had called it- that he presented to her the night previous before he took his leave of her for his own chambers.   

A finely wrought, delicate gold band coiled around her finger thrice before turning into a snakes head, tilted skyward.  Into it's open mouth was set a beautifully cut emerald.  Where there should have been eyes, the snake had tiny, glittering opals.  There was something engraved along the underside of the ring that lay against her finger that she could not read and he would not divulge.   

He had requested she wear the same gown as she had on his nameday, and so she stood by her door awaiting his arrival and fiddling with her newly acquired jewelry.  When he finally did knock, she made herself wait several moments before opening the door so that he would not think she had been standing just on the other side.   

His wide smile and proffered arm was all she received as a greeting, and it nearly made her blush.  She took his arm.  

Ilmr wasn't sure how it had happened; she had spent most of her life self-assured and calmly confident.  Now, in little more than half a year, she felt nearly dizzy, felt panic and that same strange, warm feeling rush through her veins.  She wasn't sure where her composure had gone; where the veil, the mask, had gone. But this new fluster and unease and uncertainty was unwelcome and made her whisper to Anleifr in the middle of the night when she couldn't sleep, like she hadn't done since those first few years after he died and she was uncertain and scared and hadn't yet completely found her purpose or mask.   

She suspected, though, that it had much to do with Loki.  Ever since his apology all those months ago and his subsequent kindness and courting, she had felt like this, this unsettled, excited but nervous sense that followed her everywhere.  It was as if he had pulled her composure out of her with every kiss, lapped it up as it rolled off of her skin with every touch of his tongue, driven out of her with every thrust of his hips.   

They were standing before Frigga and Odin and Ilmr wondered when she and Loki had walked the distance to their chambers.   

Loki bowed low and Ilmr too genuflected.  "Mother, Father, I wish to speak to you of a matter most important to me and near to my heart." 

Odin nodded in greeting.  "And what is this matter?"  He was imposing, and a fair and just ruler; the longer she was in Asgard, Ilmr felt he was often too cold to his second-son as a father, and his blatant favoritism for Thor ate away at her. 

"I wish to formally introduce Ilmr Egildottier of Vanaheim as my betrothed, both to you and to the realm. Our courtship--" 

"Your courtship has lasted barely half a year, I think you are--" 

"Let him speak." Frigga cut in.  The words were quiet but brooked no room for argument.   

"I am King of this realm, you would do well to remember it." 

Frigga had been the one to teach Loki how to glare.  "You would do well to remember that he is your _son_.  And you will let him speak."  She and Sif may have been warriors in the service of Asgard, but Frigga was truly Asgard's first shield maiden, though she wielded a different sort of sword entirely. 

Odin grumbled, but waved his hand in Loki's direction.  

With a short nod of his head, Loki continued.  "Our courtship, though it has not been particularly long, has been no shorter than many others in Asgard.  I confess I find myself different because of Ilmr's presence in my life and it is a good difference - surely you have noticed; I hear my name and hers spoken among the peers and commoners with such frequency, all speaking of the light brought to Asgard's dark prince." 

Frigga was smiling again, though she stood to perfect attention, as if reminding her husband that though most of Asgard would bow to him, she was his wife and would not do so.  And given how frequently she glanced to the hand Ilmr had curled in the crook Loki's arm, she had likely spotted Ilmr's adornment and would request a closer look once the audience had ended. 

Odin glared at both of them.  He spoke to Ilmr.  "And you, my lady of Vanaheim, what say you?" 

"I wish nothing more than to receive your blessing, Allfather.  While few may see it, I know you are aware of its existence: that kind, generous nature of Loki, the warmth and sensitivity.  I am privileged to see his true nature and it would be a shame to deny him -and myself- the happiness of one another.  I, too, find myself better for his courting and I would be loathe to return to my life before, the loneliness and lovelessness." 

She hadn't meant to say that.  She had realized, somewhere inside of her, that the warm, unsettled, excited feeling she found fluttering through her more often than not, was likely love.  But she hadn't spoken it to herself and now she had said it without thinking in front of not just Loki but his mother, his father: the _Allfather_.

Odin blinked several times in his surprise.  The hand Loki had over her hand on his arm gripped tight to her.  Frigga looked as though the sun itself shone out of her.  

Looking to his son, Odin graced Loki with a challenging look, a smile on his face that seemed to say his next words were merely to relish the failure he was sure Loki would reap.   "And what of you?  Are you loathe to return to loneliness and lovenessness, as the lady puts it?" 

Loki bristled at his father’s words, visibly straightening.  And then he brought Ilmr's hand to his lips, replacing it on his arm before bothering to even glance to his father.  "Yes.  To echo, _the lady_ ," he spat the title back at Odin, "I do not wish to return to the loneliness and lovelessness that I lived with before." 

There was silence after that, Frigga beamed wider, which seemed impossible but it was true.  Odin stared with anger at his son for passing a test he was apparently supposed to fail.  It made Ilmr wonder if he would refuse them out of spite. 

Loki had no patience for his father's behavior.  And apparently neither did Frigga, who cleared her throat and gave her husband a withering look. 

"Perhaps you should set me to three trials to prove myself?" That was likely not something he had decided in advance to say.   

Ilmr put her free hand over his on her arm but made no other motion to calm him.   

Odin raised his eyebrows, and Ilmr watched Frigga struggle to keep silent.  The trials were reserved for the punishment of criminals.  "You would consent to such a thing?" 

Loki did not hesitate.  "Yes." 

Odin nodded thoughtfully, his gaze fixed on his second-son, bearing down on him.  Loki remained unmoved.  "I grant you my blessing on your betrothal." 

Ilmr felt Loki's hand relax between hers on his arm; he made no other motion of relief, save to incline his head.  "My thanks, father."  The word nearly sounded like a profanity.  He looked to his mother and gave her a small smile.  "I believe this means you and Ilmr will be taking tea together more often than you do now." 

Unable to help it, Frigga glided over to them, holding Loki's face in her hands for a moment before kissing his forehead and then just as quickly moving on to Ilmr.  She received the same treatment before Frigga stepped back.  "Dinner tonight will be a very special occasion indeed." 

Ilmr's ears picked up the slightest whisper from the Queen as Loki led her from the room.   _You speak of coldness and cruelty, but it finds it's best home in you at times, husband._

*****

Ilmr received more well wishes in the days and weeks that followed the announcement of their betrothal than she had for her most successful campaign.  It was an entirely new experience.   

As was the further change in herself and in Loki that she noticed.  It had been a slip of the tongue in front of his family, in front of him.  She hadn't even known she would have said such a word:  _lovelessness_.  She had known love in the familial form, in Anleifr, but not from a suitor.  It was the only word she had for the strange sensation she felt often and most noticeably in his presence.  It was good, to have a name for it.   

She was betrothed to one of the more dangerous beings in the realm, she reminded herself, and she loved him.   

It was terrifying.  It was not something she felt she could turn from regardless. 

*****  
***** 

She had said it without thinking, which was the most important part.  It had been something floating around in her head, not something calculated.  It had filled him with an uncomfortable and somewhat unwelcome sensation of warmth and the distinct feeling of laughter bubbling up inside of him.   

He had admitted to the same to Frigga and Odin, because in all honesty, despite his loathing to do so, he didn't know what else to call the feeling; that warmth and laughter; the sense of relief he felt at inscribing an enchantment onto the ring he presented that would protect her, even from iron: the item she now had no reason to take off again.  The ease he felt in her presence and the lack of irritation he felt even after spending lengthy amounts of time with her.   

The feeling of utter rage when it seemed that Odin would deny him his desire to have her.  No matter their agreement, he knew that it was as much about convenience now as true affection for her as it was for him.  He was not entirely sure it would get in the way of either of their plans; he was nearly convinced it would be more beneficial than if they had merely decided to tolerate one another.   

It had been nearly a month since the announcement of the betrothal and even he was still receiving felicitations.  He knew Ilmr would receive them until such time as it became appropriate to congratulate her on their nuptials; the peers and commoners seemed to adore her.  She was quiet grace and surety of self, even if she had expressed to him the thought that she was more uncertain of herself now than she had ever been in her life.   

The battle in Nidavelir also did much to improve her standing among her fellow warriors and it seemed now the only one typically willing to antagonize her was the Commander himself.  The others seemed to respect her choices in the war and her unwavering, uncomplaining acceptance of whatever Cuyler asked of her.   

Loki found it hard to think of a reason, spite aside, for Odin to think Thor would be the better choice on the throne, given Loki's intellect and political savvy and Ilmr's steady winning over of the Asgardian people.   

"…Brother?"  Thor was smiling wide, amused.   

"Yes?" Loki adopted an annoyed expression.  Thor had taken quite a liking to Fenrir and would visit him often.   

"I asked whether you and the Lady Ilmr had chosen a date for your nuptials." 

"Three months from now.  She and mother need time to get things in order."   

He laughed.  "So soon!" He quirked an eyebrow, all mischief.  "Are you trying to cover something up?" 

Loki paled at the thought.  The idea of a child was one of the more undesirable thoughts he could imagine.  Ilmr had shared a similar worry when he had first bedded her on his nameday and they were both careful to ensure that it was not something that occurred.   

"No, certainly not."  He shot Thor a look as he watched his brother feed Fenrir yet another slice of meat reserved for treats.  "I am not so masterful of my magic because I can only perform slight of hand.  There would be no such potential …problem unless we wished it so."  

Thor scowled, seemingly dissatisfied with that answer.  "Would that you did, I would much enjoy being an uncle." 

"I can see that; you are fixing to fatten and spoil my hound.  I shudder to think of the bad habits you would impose upon a child."   

Several sharp knocks sounded and Thor threw his brother a confused expression.  Ilmr did not knock and if she did, it was not like that.  Without waiting for an answer, Sif forced the door open.   

Loki furrowed his brow.  Whatever it was, it was not good.  

"You will want to see this."  She bit the words out.  Whatever it was, it upset her enough that she had gone to fetch Loki.  He was under no illusion that just because she was close with Ilmr that the goodwill extended to him.   

When they arrived at the entrance to the arena, Sif held out her hand to stop he and Thor.  Ilmr was alone in the arena, save for Cuyler, who was standing nearly on her feet.  From a distance it was impossible to hear his words but it was easy to tell they were not pleasant; between the loathing present on his face and the totally impassive, blank expression on Ilmr's, it was clear it was most a malicious exchange. 

Loki circled the air around he and his companions and waited as the conversation amplified for them.   

"…ow you are in league with the bastard son of Odin, you seek to supplant me and act as though it were not your plan all along." 

"I seek your position, yes, and someday I will have it.  But I would replace you because of my superior skill, not because I usurped."  Her voice was utterly flat and emotionless.   

"A filthy, half-breed, discarded _mongrel,"_ There was that word again.  Loki's frown deepened.  Sif was seething beside him and it appeared as though Thor was itching to call Mjolnir to him.  "Like yourself will not hold this position. It would be best if you crept back into the dingy, nameless place from whence you--" 

" _Commander_!" Loki's voice cut through the air, his tone so harsh that even from their distance, he could see Cuyler pale as he turned his head towards his small audience.   

Because it would further shake him, Loki left a duplicate in his place by Thor and Sif and appeared on Cuyler's other side.   

" _I suggest_ " Cuyler jumped, hearing Loki's voice behind him and seeing the duplicate vanish.  "Quite strongly, that you apologize." 

The Commander sneered.  "When you can best me, I will." 

Ilmr was the only one Loki knew of faster than himself, and he took pleasure in the alarm on Cuyler's face when he found himself lifted off his feet by Loki's crushing grip around his throat.  "You have a choice, Commander.  You can apologize _and treat her with respect henceforth_  or I will snap your neck." 

"Not with an audience you won't." Cuyler managed to gasp, referencing Thor and Sif. 

Loki laughed.  He felt Cuyler tremble at the mirthless sound.  "They heard what I did, there will be no resistance from them.  She is a dear friend to the Lady Sif and my brother.  So Commander, _I ask you again_."  He let his voice take on all the rage and menace he felt; Cuyler looked ready to faint from terror.   

He saw Ilmr shudder at the sound out of the corner of his eye.  He ignored Cuyler, for the time being, letting him dangle just off the ground and turned his attention to her.  It seemed suddenly immensely important that he reassure her. "I'm sorry to frighten you." His voice was soft now, and in his free hand took one of hers and kissed the back of it.  "This will not happen again."   

He watched her relax.  She squeezed his hand before stepping back and away to where Thor and Sif were stationed.   

"I would prefer to apologize."  Cuyler's strained words reminded him that he still had the Commander off the ground, if only slightly. 

"I am sorry, Commander, but it appears she does not wish to hear it."  Loki gave him a predatory grin.  "I suggest you respect that decision." He set the Commander back on his feet, giving his shoulder a pat.  "I also suggest this be the only incident of its kind.  There will be no choice for you, next time." 

He left the Commander standing in the arena catching his breath.  Sif caught his eye as he approached, but did not speak. 

He raised an eyebrow.  "What?" 

She shook her head, for once seeming to think that holding her tongue was prudent.  "Thank you." 

*****

"How long has this been going on?"  He did not bother with preamble. 

She turned her head from where she lay in her bath to see him.  "Since we returned from Nidavelir successful." 

Loki fumed.  "And you didn't _once_  think to tell me?" 

"He is no harm to me, Loki, he is harm to himself.  With each day that passes, he grows more antagonistic and creates a rift between himself and his warriors.  Every day, the rift between myself and them gets smaller." 

"He _is_  harm to you.  Don't labor under the illusion for one moment that he would not cause you harm.  Did he not send you into Nidavelir knowing full well of your weakness, of the fact that the trolls would carry iron?  That is the only reason he chose you for that campaign, so that your blood would be on someone else's hands." 

"I know that; don't think I don't.  I accepted anyway, because a Commander does not shy away from a thing because it might be dangerous.  He may have set me up, but it was for success, rather than the failure he incorrectly anticipated." 

"You will not always be so lucky." 

"No, likely not." 

Loki growled, gripping the side of the tub as he leaned down.  "Do you not see the--" 

She was laughing.   _Giggling_ , actually.   

"I don't see how this is funny." 

"Your -your -- _nostrils_." She was pointing and laughing, now, holding her stomach with her free hand.  "I never -never noticed --they _flare_ when you're angry!" 

He grit his teeth.  He was in no mood.  "I still do not see how it's humorous."   

She composed herself, shaking her head, placing her hands over his on the rim of the bath.  "It's not funny, it's actually rather endearing." 

He needed her to focus.  "Ilmr.  Do you understand? I must know if he does such a thing again." 

"Truly, Loki, it's fine, he will grow bored of it." 

"It has been seven months." 

"And he'll give up soon, surely now, after today." She persisted, as if it were some trifling thing.  

He didn't mean to shout, but before he realized he was, it was too late. And nearly in her face. "I will have no harm come to you!"  

A quiet 'Oh' was all he heard, though he wished she still did not understand, and then she removed one of her hands, moving it to his face.  When she spoke, it was the velvet; he knew she knew he could not resist, not any longer. "Join me.  I am exhausted to the point of giggling fits, and the warm water will help calm you, too." 

He scowled but couldn't -and didn't- deny the draw.   

***** 

There were many things that they did not say to one another.  The date of their nuptials was a month away and neither had spoken a word to the other of what they claimed in the presence of the Allfather: that without one another, they would be love _less_.   

That suited Loki, as he wasn't sure he would admit it, especially not when it seemed she knew it regardless.  

What did not suit him was one of the other things she did not say to him: she did not lay claim to any abuses by Cuyler.  Loki knew the Commander was still punishing her for the accident of her birth, but he also knew he could not attend each drill session; partly because she would be furious, and partly because he had other things that had to take precedence, often.   

He had been forced to rely on Sif and while it was an uneasy truce, it was one that nonetheless earned him a small part of Sif's trust, if only for Ilmr's sake.  After several weeks of Sif's reports and Loki's subsequent 'discussions' with the Commander, the verbal abuse and requisite extra drills ended.   

He had thought. 

The doors to his chambers were thrown open and Ilmr stormed in.  He was going to comment on her lack of discretion, and then he saw her face.   

She tilted it up to him, a haughty expression on her face between the fury etched there.  There was a large bruise on her cheek, her lip was split and oozing blood still, and blood trickling down from her hairline. 

"He told me to send his regards."  She sounded furious.  " _What_   _does that mean_?" 

This should not have been.  The fact that Loki would kill him for it notwithstanding, there should not have been a mark on her.  "Where is your ring?" 

"I take it off for drilling so nothing happens to it.  What did Cuyler mean?" 

He ignored her again.  If he didn't he would storm out before properly seeing to her.  "What happened?" 

"He waited until I had finished my extra drills and then lit into me quite literally."  She smiled slightly and Loki wiped away blood that split down her chin as her grin further split her lip.  "He looks as least as bad as I do, a morning of training and then some no matter." 

Loki sat her down on his couch and proceeded to clean her up.  "Who saw you?" 

"I walked through the barracks on my way here.  So all of the others he commands that happened to be around.  Word will spread soon enough." 

"He will be dead before evening, so it matters not."   

She pushed his hands away.  "Loki, you cannot--" 

"--No, _you_  cannot take that ring off again.  Not once.  Do you understand?" 

She let out a breath of a laugh.  "I don't, no." 

"It will not break, not under any circumstances you are likely to ever encounter.  Do not take it off again." 

She narrowed her eyes at him.  One of the things he most appreciated about her was her discerning nature.  One of the things he despised at times such as this was her discerning nature.  A less canny woman would not have bothered to notice or ask, too cowed to do so.  Not Ilmr.   

"Why?" 

He did not want to tell her.  To do so would reveal how much he did think of her, and he was worried it would give her reason to be reckless.  After a time, he relented.  "It will keep you safe.  Please."   

She regarded him with great scrutiny before finally assenting. With conditions.  "Provided you tell me exactly what Cuyler meant, then yes, I will not take it off again for any reason." 

An exasperated sigh escaped him.  He took her by the shoulders and she winced.  His face darkened and he stepped back from her.  "I must see all of you.  Now." 

"Loki, it is no worse than what you can already see."   

"Why do you insist on protecting him?"  He was steadily growing more furious. 

She knit her brow. "I do not protect him, I protect myself."   

He understood in a rush of anger and hurt, though he did not want to.  One of his most and least favorite things about Ilmr was her ability to make him feel anything aside from his rage and mischief.  "I have been having ...words with him, after your drills if I discover he has been less than gentlemanly towards you." 

And suddenly, so suddenly it made him think she had been spending a bit too much time around him; she was indignant.  "I asked you _months_  ago not to interfere, that while you meant well it would only fuel him."  She motioned to her face.  "Do you not believe me now?"  She pushed off the couch.  "You may be more intelligent, more clever than all of Asgard, but you are no less impetuous for it.  This is not the first time I have had a Commander like Cuyler.  I know you wish to protect me and believe me I appreciate it. But I also need you to _trust_  me."   

She was heading for the door.  He took her arm gently; he didn't know what injury had been laid there.  "Where do you go now?"   

Shaking out of his hold, she granted him an impatient look.  "The healing rooms." 

And then she was gone.   

***** 

By the time he found Cuyler, the man was walking away from the throne room, face stony.  It seemed as though the Allfather had found him first.   

The Commander sneered at Loki when he noticed him.  "You got my message, then?" 

In response, Loki slammed him into the wall adjacent, smiling at the crack he heard as Cuyler's head connected with the smooth stone.  Nose to nose with him, Loki ground his words out through his teeth.  "If you touch her again, I will pound a dent into this stone the shape of your head, and I will not stop until the only thing that remains of your skull is a pulpy, gelatinous mass." 

The Commander laughed. "You will be the death of her." 

Loki slammed him back into the wall harder, smiling with deep satisfaction when he crumpled, unconscious, to the floor.  It was only because of Ilmr's request that he didn't kill the Commander where he lay.  Loki went in search of his father. 

"I understand he keeps his title."  The rage in his voice was evident enough that Odin stepped away from his councilors rather than tell Loki to dismiss himself.   

"Yes."   

"Did you see her?"  While Odin was trying to keep his voice down and the conversation private, Loki had no such plans. 

"Mind your tone." 

" _Did you see her_?" 

"Yes." 

"And yet he remains Commander." 

"Yes." 

" _Why_?" 

"Do not think he has not received punishment, though it may not be the kind you would wish it to be. He has been forewarned that any other such incidents will result in the stripping of his titles, ranks, and stipend.  For now, he has been warned and will be punished accordingly." 

"And _what_  is 'accordingly'?"  Loki was fast losing patience.  "Do you forget she is a Princess of Vanaheim?  Princess-consort, as  _my_  betrothed?" 

" _Do not question me._ "  Odin's shout silenced the chamber as instantly as if he had struck Gungnir on the floor.  "I understand you are upset, and I regret that it happened at all.  But I must nonetheless be fair and just.  No others were there to see it, and I daresay that woman of yours gave as good as she got, by the look of the Commander.  And so, I must be fair.  I will punish him and send him away with a warning.  I have heard enough from Lady Sif to think that this was not at the Lady Ilmr's provocation." Odin laid a hand on Loki's shoulder.  " _But_ , I will mandate two guards to be present at all times so that she is not alone with him again." 

Loki furrowed his brow. He had not thought that Odin would do more than dismiss his concerns.  "Truly?" 

"I can see that she means a great deal to you."   

Odin said no more and left Loki staring after him as he returned to his councilors.

 

 


	12. Chapter Twelve - Not A Road Traveled Easily By Any

**Chapter Twelve – Not A Road Traveled Easily By Any**

 

A/N:  This is the chapter when things start really happening! Lots and lots of things. The chapter will start off from Loki’s perspective before switching to Ilmr’s for the remainder after the double page break.  The song in italics is The Offspring’s  “You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid” and it _always_ makes me think of Loki. 

  

_I never had a chance_  
It was really only you  
With a thousand lies and a good disguise   
Hit ‘em right between the eyes

 

There was no second incident with Cuyler. Ilmr replaced the ring on her finger and Loki had not seen her take it off again.   

It became more difficult to access his mother's chambers while Ilmr was within them.  Once Frigga realized he had been intimidating the guards in order to get into her chambers despite orders to keep him out, she had enchanted the doors so that they would not open unless she expressly permitted it.   

It vexed him, especially given that the only excuse he received from either his mother or Ilmr was a vague reference to the need for secrecy to ensure a truly happy event.   

It sounded highly suspicious, especially given how taken with the whole thing Ilmr seemed.  It wasn't something he thought she would have been particularly interested in, though perhaps because Frigga was excited, Ilmr was excited.  And possibly because Ilmr very much enjoyed teasing him because it got under his skin. 

Finally, however, the morning came that saw his servant waking him unnaturally early under the guise of preparing him for the festivities of the day.  It would take great effort indeed if he was expected to be cheerful so soon after the sun had risen.  Loki thought briefly that such an early awakening did not bode well.   

He found himself utterly incorrect, before the end of the day.   

The spread for the morning meal had seemed vast and he found that a delicious, sparkling wine had been laid out in small flutes to cleanse the palate.  Both he and Ilmr, he realized, took two servings more than usual, though the evening meal would be far vaster. 

By the time the afternoon came around, he had found himself well-fed, dressed tip-to-toe in his armor that gleamed from the attentions of a servant and an oil rag, and waiting for Ilmr's arrival in the banquet hall.  And the subsequent feasting, which given the menu he had glimpsed and the platters servants were laying out behind him, would be two more days of meals the like of which he would not see again.   

Both Egil and his wife Alfhild had declined to attend their daughter's ceremony, citing a delegation that needed their attention, though the missive they sent in their stead indicated their assurance that the event would be most enjoyable.   

One of the more enjoyable aspects of the ceremony was watching Thor lead a small goat in, a circle of flowers around its neck, and brought to the altar where it would be sacrificed.  The visual was better than any imaginings, and Loki had to call upon all of his strength to keep his composure at the sight of his monstrous brother and the small creature at the other end of the rope.  Who Loki was fairly sure could best his brother in a game of chess.   

Ilmr arrived shortly thereafter.  New armor had been commissioned for the event, the breast plate the same detailed golden hue as his, an emerald and black dress underneath the various plates, buckles and bracers.  She looked like a beautiful, terrible Goddess of War, her hair pinned back from her face but falling loose down her back.   

She took his proffered hand when she reached him.  "My lord."  A small smile played on her lips.

"My lady."  He brushed his lips over her knuckles.  "What is it that amuses you so?" 

She did not turn to him, but waited until a cheer rang out as they faced the gathered crowd to speak.  "The goat's pet God of Thunder." 

Loki choked back a laugh, at that.   

After the joint sacrifice of Thor's minder, Loki led Ilmr away to a black couch with green and golden detail that had been placed at the center of the high table.  They both drank deeply of the wine from the goblet placed in front of the couch, meant to seal the ceremony, and the banquet hall erupted into a cacophony of celebratory calls and the sound of plates being passed and glasses clinking.   

"I fear I will not be able to wear this armor, two days hence." 

"No?" Loki was trying to decide what to eat first.  "Did you decide the menu?" 

"I helped, most certainly.  And no, considering I gorged myself at breakfast, and likely will again now." 

He chose several cuts of meat and sautéed vegetables to start, though could not help but eye the massive, braised boar in the center of the table that was carefully being cut by a servant from the kitchens.   

"I believe the smithee will likely be able to make adjustments to the armor, if we leave it with him this evening.  You're a Princess of Asgard as of today, many such things are afforded to you now." 

She speared a tomato off of his plate.  "One can only hope that such wit remains one of them." 

He granted her a wicked smile.  "That, and a no-longer-secret place in my bed."

 

*****  
***** 

A month after their nuptials, Frigga had mentioned two things that had made Ilmr feel faint: children, and the approach of Odin's announcement of an official heir.  Ilmr did not mention the former to Loki; he already knew of the latter.  Soon was nearly worse than not knowing anything at all.  

Since she had revealed to him that Cuyler had -finally- physically shown his distaste for her, not only had it not happened again, but Loki seemed to be more conscientious.  Still neither had spoken a word of what they had said in Frigga and Odin's chambers on the announcement of their betrothal, of _love_ , but whether he didn't know he was being so blatant, or merely did not care, it seemed to Ilmr to be in his tone, his manner, when it came to her.   

She could not say she did not return the sentiment similarly.  

***** 

Frigga and Odin had retired to their chambers suspiciously early after the evening meal.  Ilmr waited several minutes before dropping a hand to rest against Loki's thigh, who gave the slightest nod; he thought it was suspect, too.

It was not long after they returned to his -their- chambers that they were called to the King and Queen’s. 

When they arrived, Thor was already there, genuflecting.  Assuming a similar position, they waited; Loki had not allowed her to remove her hand from the crook of his arm.   

"My sons," Odin glanced to Ilmr.  "My daughter." He turned his attention back to Thor and Loki.  "I call you here to discuss a matter that has much been on my mind.  I have spent many years watching you grow, teaching you lessons taught to me.  The time approaches, now, for one of you to take up my mantle, to put to practice all those things you have learned."   

Odin was very good at creating unnecessary tension if he felt it gave him the upper hand in political situations.  If he felt like being dramatic.  It was one of the few ways Loki was like his father. 

"Therefore, I have chosen an heir."  Ilmr could tell both Thor and Loki held their breath, though it seemed to her that Thor seemed more anxious.  "Thor, my first-born, in a month’s time, I will bequeath my title to you." 

Odin bid them rise and as they did Ilmr could see Thor beaming fit to split his face.   

"Thank you father! I am most honored!"  He did not wait to pull Ilmr and Loki into a crushing embrace and then turn to rush out; to find Sif and the Warriors Three, no doubt.   

Despite Thor's manhandling, Loki had still not let her hand slip from his arm.  "Thank you for the audience, father."  Inclining his head, he allowed Ilmr to murmur her goodbyes before leading them back to their chambers. 

He was silent the whole way.  It was not a particularly long walk, but long enough.  The hand he placed over hers on his arm gripped to her hand tight the entire way and did not lessen.   

Only once they were back behind the closed doors of their chambers did he let her go to sink into the nearby couch.  Ilmr granted him the privacy of the time it took for her to see to Fenrir and Vidar before seating herself next to him.   

He would speak when he was ready to, something it seemed to Ilmr that few understood about Loki.   

After a considerably shorter amount of time than she anticipated, he broke the silence.   

"I am sorry, Ilmr." 

She wasn't sure she heard him properly.  At least, it was not what she expected he would say.  "What?"

"I am fairly certain that Thor will make you Commander, sooner than my father would have, but now that I will not be on the throne, I can make no guarantee of when, if at all." 

"I have been patient before, I can be patient again.  What of you and your desires?" 

He was quiet this time for much longer than before.  When he did speak, it would have been nearly impossible for her to hear had it not been for her elven senses.  "As much as I wanted the crown, it was mostly because it would have been a symbol of my worth in the eyes of my father as I stood next to my brother.  I will not deny the lure of the crown; it has been driven into us our whole life that either of us could be king, that it was our birthright.  I deluded myself into believing it still, though I've known in my heart for many centuries now that it was not true." 

Ilmr understood this better than anyone else Loki had likely encountered, she knew.  It had been what finally drove her from Vanaheim.  He knew that she understood, and so she said nothing.   

"I fear more for the damage he will do.  Truly, he is not ready.  I would not have been, either, but I would have had the wisdom to beg the time to learn what I did not know."  He shook his head, straightening where he sat, drawing up his reserves. "It matters not, now."  He did not sound like he meant it.  Not entirely.  

She felt for him.  She felt her heart break for him.  He deserved more than he seemed to always receive.  "You are the God of Mischief and Lies; Odin's decree is not stone-set until the coronation, There are--" She stopped herself.  Thought of Vidar and sparring and the way Loki tasted. 

"What?"  His voice was low.   

She cast her eyes skyward.  "Walls have ears." 

He waved her concern away.  "Heimdall cannot hear or see you.  I made sure to hide you from his view as well when I decided to court you." 

Ilmr let out a breath of a laugh in relief before continuing.  "There are other ways to sway Odin.  To change his mind." 

"Go on."  By his tone, he seemed to have already made up his mind similarly, but still wanted to hear his thoughts confirmed aloud. 

"We can make him see the error in the choice, make him see how rash your brother is; that he thinks with his brawn instead of his brain, oftentimes.  Thor is a friend to me but he is not ready to lead and may never be." 

Loki watched her for several long moments before snatching her close against him where they sat without warning, pushing his kiss deeper with each passing moment, breaking it as suddenly as it had begun when he needed a breath. 

"You are truly my greatest weapon, Ilmr."  He stalked to his desk, searching for a certain book among the many littering the space. "I will force Thor's hand, force him to reveal how hot-headed, how impulsive, how _unready_  to rule he is.  Odin will be unable to ignore such a display as endangers Asgard and precarious political ties.  Especially when much of the realm is gathered for his coronation and is there to witness it." 

Ilmr smiled.  "How do you plan to do it?" 

A playful smile graced his features.  "Jotunheim." 

Her face darkened.  "What?" 

"I will lead only a few Jotuns into Asgard through one of the many portals Heimdall does not know of.  Odin will unleash the Destroyer on them, when Heimdall alerts him to their presence near the Casket of Ancient Winters.  Thor will be so distraught that his coronation has been overshadowed, it will take only a few well-placed words, if any are needed at all, to convince him to march on Jotunheim against father's wishes and so show father and the realm he is not ready." 

While she was reluctant to do so, she nodded her assent.  "I will let you plan while I bathe, and when I am finished, you will tell me what you need me to do."   

"Perfect." 

Jotuns.   _Jotunheim_.  Had there been another way, Ilmr would have spoken against him.  There wasn't, she knew.  There was no quarrel the other realms had with Asgard, with Odin, in the same way that Jotunheim, that Laufey, did.  It would be dangerous, more so than anything that she had done before.  It did not waylay her.   

When she emerged from the bath, Loki was nowhere to be found.  She sat herself on their couch with a book to await his return. 

She did not realize she had fallen asleep until she felt Loki carrying her from the couch to their bed when he returned what must have been hours later.  She wanted to ask him many things, but as she was still skirting the edges of consciousness, Ilmr decided to wait until the following morning.   

***** 

She waited only long enough for the servants to withdraw from their chambers after bringing in their morning tea.   

"Where did you go?" 

Carefully spreading jam on toast, he sighed.  Since their nuptials, both she and Loki preferred to take breakfast in their chambers.  "I had to make arrangements." 

Ilmr's eyes widened.  "You traveled to Jotunheim?   _Alone_? Are you mad?" 

"The ring I gifted you allows you the same healing abilities that Asgardians possess.  I do not fool myself for a moment, though, to think that a Frost Giant could not kill you as soon as look at you."  She went to protest and he gave her a withering look.  "I will not risk you, Ilmr.  I do not want Laufey to know of you; or if he must, I do not want him to know _who_  you are." 

It was these moments that made other declarations superfluous.   

"Do you not think it would be suspect if, when Thor does take your bait, I do not accompany you to Jotunheim?  I have proved myself more than once to him as a formidable ally.  If you think he would journey there and not request my presence, you are a fool." 

He rubbed absently at an eyebrow.  "Could this not have waited until after breaking our fast?"

She smiled over the rim of her teacup, her word echoing slightly as she tilted the cup to her lips.  "No." 

He smirked.  "What I wish to show you will need to wait until nightfall, however, so I do hope you have enough to distract you until such time." 

"I do, actually." 

"Oh?"

He would not like it, but as she would likely be putting much of her free time towards it, it did not matter when he learned of it.  "Your mother sent a missive last night after you had gone requesting tea earlier than usual today.  I suspect that, as Thor is not wed, betrothed or even courting, your mother will request my assistance in planning his coronation." 

"You will decline." 

"No, I will not."  Ilmr cut off his exasperated sigh.  " _Think_ , Loki.  If you truly plan to do this, we must appear as though we have nothing to do with it.  That it is simply the Frost Giants having found an alternative way into the realm.  What better way than, after being denied the throne, we assist in planning the joyous occasion?  Let me be that ambassador, and all you will need to do is appear happy for your brother and stand at his side disbelieving the turn of events on the day." 

He growled, but nodded.  "Very well." 

"And this way, you will know exactly what will happen when and where everyone will be situated because I will have planned it." 

His demeanor lifted and he laid a hand over hers.  "Perfect." 

***** 

Ilmr had been right; Frigga had wanted her assistance to plan the coronation.  She had been very diplomatic and sensitive when she made the request and Ilmr had been sure to act as though it was only too much her pleasure to assist.   

Truly, though she liked Thor, she agreed with Loki that he was not ready for the crown, not yet.  But she was not willing to deny Frigga a request; in the time she had been in Asgard, the Queen had provided Ilmr a haven of maternal care and comfort the like of which she had never known.   

As with both Loki’s nameday and their nuptials, the amount of planning that went into the event boggled Ilmr’s mind. She spent an inordinate amount of time with Frigga; though she couldn’t complain it seemed at times as though Loki might. 

After was felt like ages of sampling, listening, and seating arrangements but was actually only a fortnight, the day arrived and she rose to begin her preparation.

The coronation itself would happen at midday, after which would begin three days of feasting the like of which had not been seen before, even compared to the feasting that had occurred not two months earlier when she had been wed to Loki. 

Loki had shown her many times since he had first gone to Jotunheim where in the mountains the passage between realms lay.  He never said it, but Ilmr was aware that this was his fall back should something go wrong: he knew she could escape and that he could follow her and find her eventually. 

*****

Outside the entry to the throne room, Loki clasped her hands.  He was very conscious of being physically affectionate in public, once he realized it endeared the people to both himself and Ilmr. 

“I must escort Mother.” 

Ilmr gave his hands a squeeze.  Though a departure from his normal, more subtle affection in private, she could not say she minded his more overt displays. 

“I will join Sif and the Warriors Three.” 

It had been decided that Asgard’s two warrior women would walk together to take their places for the ceremony.  In part so that Frigga would have an escort, but Ilmr had made a case for it so as to remind the people that two of their most skilled protectors of their realm were women.  In Vanaheim, women were able to battle alongside the men and she would see it so in Asgard, if she could. 

“How is he taking it?”  Sif did not move her lips and spoke low.  

“Better than you would imagine.”  They had not had an opportunity to speak before that moment about the announcement and Ilmr imagined the question had burned in Sif’s mind from the time Thor told her the news. 

A raised eyebrow was the only expression to cross Sif’s face.  Few realized how canny she was, thinking her all brawn like the prince Ilmr knew she coveted. “And he has not planned any ill-advised prank for this event?  No snakes where there should be sashes, no vinegar where there should be wine?” 

Ilmr swallowed a laugh and cleared her throat. “No, nothing of the sort; I believe he’s very much looking forward to the food as much as anyone else. All of the ceremonies this past year has predisposed him to these endless feasts.” 

Sif gave her a nod and a small smile. “I am glad to see that he has now other reasons to be glad aside from the hope for the throne.” 

With that, Sif moved to stand with the Warriors Three and Ilmr turned to the left to await the rest of the royal family. 

She soon found herself standing alongside Loki and Frigga as the great hall roared its delight at the future king's arrival.  Thor egged them on with delight as he passed between two rows of the guard, lifting his hammer into the air and shouting with glee.   

She saw Loki clench his jaw out of the corner of her eye and she gave the faintest hint of a nod.  Ilmr agreed:  the display was the sort befitting of one not ready for the throne.  Odin bore a look of long-suffering acceptance. Frigga beamed. 

Just before Odin could name Thor king, however, his eyes glazed over.  "Frost Giants."  

The two words gripped the room with fear.  The sound of the people gathered reached deafening levels near instantly. Out of the corner of her eye, Ilmr saw Sif glance Loki’s way.  

He was already moving, stepping closer to and in front of Ilmr and Frigga, two throwing knives appearing in each hand. Ilmr had not brought her weapons; they would not have fit anywhere on her person and it would look as though she expected an attack.  Sif and the Warriors Three always carried their weapons, as did both Loki and Thor, but as Ilmr did not, it would have seemed suspect.  

It was enough, it seemed, and Sif looked away towards the rest of the room, scanning for the enemy. 

Two taps on the floor of Gungnir and Ilmr knew Odin had unleashed the Destroyer.  Loki squeezed her hand and requested she stay with Frigga, pressing two daggers into her hand before he and Thor followed Odin down into the Vault.   

The Warriors Three and Sif, with help from the rest of the guard, took control of, and calmed, the room.  Ilmr remained next to Frigga as the room emptied of spectators, weapons at the ready though she knew she would not need them.   

"This is most unusual.  I do not understand how they could have gotten into Asgard."  Frigga had kept her voice low.   

Ilmr nodded.  "I do not know what intelligence they possess, but they were always depicted in tales to me as particularly canny and dangerous.  However they did it, it is likely not a road easily travelled by any." 

That seemed to be enough for the Queen, who requested Ilmr escort her to her chambers, where her personal guard could watch over her if the need arose.  Acquiescing, Ilmr returned to the great hall in time to see the Warriors Three and Sif watching as Thor and Loki spoke in hushed tones.   

They did not speak long; it was truly a mere few words and Thor was convinced, all the while Loki trying to sway him away from the notion.   

"Lady Ilmr!  You will join us as well, will you not?" 

She cast a glance to Loki, who had clenched his jaw.  If she was going to be complicit, she would be wholly so, not in part.  "Of course, I could not bear to stay behind where my friends, my brother, and my husband venture forth." 

With a great laugh of delight, it was decided.   

They left for Jotunheim immediately.   

*****

"You will take the utmost care, you will hang behind." 

Ilmr abruptly halted her work saddling her horse hearing Loki just behind her.  "I will do no such thing.  Were we not useful to one another, you would not say such a thing." 

He seethed.  "Were you not dear to me, I would say no such thing.  Do not forget that."  He stalked off towards his horse. 

Loki did not say another word to her until there was icy rock and snow under-boot in Jotunheim.  "I implore you, be cautious."  His voice was low in her ear before he stepped away and strode forward just behind his brother.   

Ilmr fell in stride with Sif.  She was relieved to see the warrior shooting her disconcerted glances.  Though Ilmr had helped to orchestrate it, she was no less nervous for it.  Fandral had been right; it was no pleasure-jaunt, and they would need to be overly cautious.   

Thor had not gotten far in his mocking before the Frost Giants appeared before them, surrounding them.  Laufey sat atop a broken, icy throne, eyes scarlet and rife with distaste.   

Ilmr knew that Loki's plan was not to start a war; the mere act of traveling to Jotunheim would be transgression enough for Odin.   

The silver tongue that Volstagg had claimed turned to lead swayed Laufey's mind to let their small party leave untouched.   

Or it did, until she heard his parting jibe.  "Run along back to Asgard, Princess." 

"Damn." She heard Loki breathe from just behind her.   

It would be a fight after all.  It was immediately beyond the scope of what they had planned.   

The landscape erupted all at once; the spikes on Hogun's mace sprang out just as she heard the metal-on-metal sound of Fandral's epee slide out of its scabbard.  Beside her, Sif's double-bladed weapon unfolded while Volstagg swung his battleax off of his shoulder.  She did not need to look to know Thor was ready with Mjolnir and Loki with his sorcery and his blades.  Unsheathing her own sword, she moved into a defensive stance.   

She was both glad and regretful that Vidar and Fenrir were not with them, but she had forbid it despite Thor's pleas.  Nidavelir and Jotunheim were two places she would never allow them; they were hearty, but she did not harbor any illusion that they would fare well against the Frost Giants.   

Sliding back onto one leg, she narrowly missed a blow from one of the Giants' icy scimitars.  Using the momentum of the movement, she sprang up and forward, opening a gash across the giant’s chest that stretched from his shoulder to his waist.  His blood was so cold it stopped her a moment to catch her breath.   

It was long enough for her to notice a Frost Giant approaching Sif's uncovered left side.  Flicking a knife towards the Giant as Loki had taught her, she caught the Giant in his throat and his dying gurgle was enough to alert Sif to his presence.   

A huge, icy club caught Ilmr around her middle and threw her halfway across the expanse.  Landing hard on her back with a goran she rolled away despite the crunch of bone she had felt.  Likely, she had broken a few ribs upon impact.  She could feel them already knitting, thanks to the enchantment in her ring and she threw up a hasty parry.  Fandral came to her aid, his epee bursting through the middle of the Giant a handful of seconds later.   

"Don't let them touch you!"  Volstagg's yell was pained.  She flicked her eyes to him and even at her distance could see the black mark on his arm.  Frostbite.   

Loki had his back to her as he battled.  Two giants stepped into her field of vision as she heard Fandral cry out in sharp pain somewhere behind the two and she redoubled her efforts, felling one before being able to focus more on the other.  She could see Sif and Hogun carefully lifting Fandral from where he had been impaled by huge, sharp spikes of ice.   

She heard one of her companions call out to Thor that it was time to flee.  She wasn't sure which, as the sound was muffled by the reverberation of her blade meeting and shattering the remaining Giant's icy club.  And then she bolted.   

Catching up with the others, she spared a backwards glance at Thor, or what she imagined was Thor, in the middle of a maelstrom of ice that Mjolnir was spinning.   

Loki's hand at her back pushed her farther forward, ahead of himself even as she heard the crack and crumble of the ice around one of the gargoyles that was apparently not a gargoyle.   

"Hurry!"  Just as she yelled, the sound became loud enough for the others to hear, the fear becoming evident on their faces.  The great beast's leap shook the ground as an earthquake and they nearly lost their footing.   

It appeared to have too few legs, which it compensated for with a massive, clubbed and clawed tail.  Much like the Giants, it had eyes red as blood.  Its face was an ugly, smashed-in grimace.  And it was gaining on them.   

A second quake, stronger than the first, rocked them.  Thor.  The ground underneath their feet began to crumble and Volstagg hoisted Fandral over his shoulder and continued on.  It still amazed Ilmr how much his size belied his agility. 

A crevasse opened in front of them, one Sif nearly did not make because of the clubbed tail that nearly caught her.  Throwing her arm backward, Ilmr latched onto Sif, pulling her close and away from the edge. 

"Heimdall!"  Loki's shout cut through the sudden silence.   

There was no answer.  There was still an enemy too close.   

The beast was missing. 

And then a great shadow fell over them and they turned, watching as the creature rose up over them ever taller.  Ilmr tried to think, tried to strategize.  Anything to fell this creature.  

They did not have long.  A figure in red streaked across over them and straight through the back of the creature’s throat as it let out a great bellow.   

But there was still no opportunity for Heimdall to open the Bifrost; no sooner had Thor turned to his companions, than Ilmr realized they were surrounded.  Only this time, they were cornered on the precipice of a cliff.  Neither Loki nor Thor would be King of Asgard now.   

She gripped the hilt of her blade tighter, thought of Anleifr for strength.  Her companions shifted from foot to foot in front of her, waiting for the Giants to make the first move.  Only Loki was still, save for a slight shift that placed him a step closer to Ilmr. 

Impossibly, miraculously, the Bifrost opened.  It was not there to take them back however, but to bring one down.  Odin.    

The others may not have been able to hear the exchange, but Ilmr could.  And it seemed like she and Loki had been successful; it sounded as though Odin no longer considered Thor ready.   

She did not have time to think on it much.  She found herself in the observatory moments later.   

"Get him to a healer!" Odin ordered.  Sif and Hogun carried Fandral away, Volstagg following to treat his frostbite.   

Ilmr stood quietly next to Loki, watching as Thor and Odin argued.  Thor much took after his father; both hot-headed and resolute.  Though Loki tried to intercede, Ilmr watched in silence as Thor was stripped of his titles, his power.  She watched in dumbstruck silence as Odin cast him out.   

Without another word, Odin strode from the chamber as the Bifrost closed, leaving Loki and Ilmr alone.  They stared at one another in shocked silence.   

"Come."  Loki's voice was raw, stiff.  "We must return to our chambers." 

He walked at a fast clip and she was hard-pressed to keep up with his long strides.  He did not speak to her, did not look at her.  Not until they reached their chamber doors.   

"I will return presently.  In the meantime, bathe.  You must be freezing."  He had looked at her, but kept his focus mostly on her hairline.   

Something was wrong.  Something was very, very wrong.  Thor's banishment aside, Loki was shaken.  She acquiesced, however.  She _was_  freezing; still covered in Jotun blood.  

She would ask him when he returned. 

***** 

Ilmr was not long in the bath; she had heard Loki return and did not want to linger.  Wrapping herself in the green silk dressing robe, she hastened to their bedchamber.   

She found him sitting on the edge of the couch, still dressed in his armor.  Ilmr sat herself next to him, a hand next to his on the cushion, but did not touch him. 

"What has happened, Loki?" 

He was silent so long she thought he might not answer at all.  He eventually nodded to the far corner of their chambers.  She had not noticed Gungnir until that moment. 

"I am King." 

That was not it, she knew.  "And?" 

He seemed to be snapped out of his trance at that, glaring at her with cold, hard eyes; eyes she had not seen that look in since the first few days she had been in Asgard.  When he spoke, his voice dripped with contempt.  "And I have been lied to."  A challenge, perverse and hating, surfaced in his eyes as she watched him.  "I am Jotun." 

Whatever she had been expecting, that was not it.   

"What? How did you learn of this?" 

"How did you?"  He rounded on her.  The tone of his voice reminded Ilmr that he was one of the more dangerous beings in the Nine Realms. 

"I didn't.  I asked how you learned of it." 

His eyes narrowed.  She would need to tread very, very carefully. "You do not seem surprised.   _Why?_ "  He shouted the word in such a way that she felt for a moment as though it had torn a visible hole in her.  

"Because I do not see how it makes a difference to me." 

His rage lent him a speed she was unaccustomed to, and he was leaning over her, forcing her to lean back into the couch before she could register that he had moved.   

"Do I not appear monstrous?"  He hissed.  And then began to change.  "Perhaps you require a visual to assist you." 

In a matter of moments, Ilmr was almost nose-to-nose with a bright blue, scarlet-eyed Loki, markings characteristic of the Jotuns etched across his face.  In the warmth of their chamber, the cold rolled off his body in visible clouds.   

Ilmr did not move, keeping her countenance calm but not impassive.  They were nearly matched in skill when it came to battle, but with his rage and sorcery, he outpaced her.  She had wed one of the most dangerous men in the Nine Realms.  She needed to be very, very cautious, and she thought of Anleifr for strength for the second time that day before she spoke.   

"It does not matter, Loki.  You have been Jotun your whole life, whether you knew it or not.  You have not been cruel or unkind -nor monstrous- towards me or any other despite it." 

"I spent my boyhood hearing tales of the evils of the Jotuns and Jotunheim.  Do not tell me you haven't."  He hissed. 

"I will not.  I will tell you to be enraged at them, your family, for keeping from you what they should not have.  But do not hold against me something I did not know and something I will not hold against you.  Something I will not abandon you for." 

The hard edge to his eyes faded, but they were still wary, untrusting.  "Oh no?  Why, because I am King now?" 

Ilmr had the poor sense to scoff.  "No, Loki, because whether you have admitted it or not, your affection for me is as obvious to me as mine for you must be to you.  Because if the realm you hailed from had influence on your nature, you would have been thoughtlessly, needlessly cruel your whole life.  Your rage, your upset now: that may be proof that you were born Jotun, that you can appear Jotun, but you are no less of Asgard for it.  You are no less yourself than you were before you knew." 

"Am I not?"  He suddenly sounded exhausted and slipped to sit next to her again.  He remained Jotun in his appearance.   

Ilmr breathed a silent sigh of relief.  She was steadily gaining ground with him.  Her rage at his family could wait.  She needed him to see first that she was still his ally.   

"You are still Loki.  You are still the same mischievous god that courted me; that I wed not two months past.  And I would not turn away from you for the simple matter of your birth." 

His hands were again the pale tone she had come to know so well.  Tentatively she reached out, carefully taking his hand so as not to startle him.  He seemed to have fallen back into his trance-like state.   

It was a mere second before he tore his hand from her.  "You cannot touch me."  His tone was sour.  "Will you not turn away from that?" 

"I do not see how touching you today is different from touching you yesterday.  You were Jotun then, you just did not know.  I can touch you now just the same as I did yesterday." 

She watched him glare at her for a number of minutes.  She waited patiently under his scrutiny.  Ilmr was all too used to such things, growing up under her father's harsh gaze and spending much of her time at the whim of a power-hungry Commander or with her mercurial husband.   

He finally let his head drop with a sigh.  When he spoke, it was barely above a whisper.  "There was no chance of ever gaining Asgard's throne for me.  Odin would never have given it to a Jotun; it was foregone that it would go to Thor.  He let me think I had a chance for the sake of his own conscience, for the sake of sleeping well at night.  He would have used me to gain a long truce with the Jotuns."  He paused for only a moment.  "I am Laufey's son, you see.  He would have put me on the throne of Jotunheim so that the long quarrel would end.  He would never have a Frost Giant sit on the throne of Asgard."  He rubbed his hands together.  "But now he sleeps.  Mother is unsure of when he will wake, if he will wake.  Thor is banished.  And I am King." 

There was steel in his voice, but underneath Ilmr heard his heartbreak.  She did not remember crying for anything since Anleifr had died, but she felt her eyes well up and she blinked away the tears quickly.   

Sweeping out of her seat, she knelt in front of him, taking his hands as she sought out his eyes.  

"I do not freeze, you see?"  She gave his hands a squeeze and at that he finally met her gaze.  "For tonight -just tonight- lock your rage in your heart.  We will face the deception of your family in the morning, together.  But for tonight, be here, with me." 

She thought he would refuse her he was silent for so long.  And then he leaned forward, kissing her with all the desperation she was sure ebbed from his broken heart. 

Without breaking the kiss he drew her up and shifted so that she was lying underneath him on the couch, his hands making quick work of the sash of the robe.  He could not be bothered to wait so long to properly unbuckle and unlace his own clothes and with a wave of his hand he was naked from the waist down.   

His hands slid down her sides as his mouth trailed hard kisses and nips down her throat.  Without preamble, he shifted her hips up with a hand just as he moved forward and buried himself within her in one hard, smooth move.   

Before Ilmr had done much more than moan, he was driving into her with the same desperation that had been in his kiss and she wrapped her legs around his waist to keep him from pounding her out of his reach.  She gasped as the move brought him even deeper with each thrust and allowed the various buckles and hard metal edges of his armor to bite into her skin.  She leaned further into him. 

Lifting his head by his hair, she ran her teeth over his lips before kissing him again, muffling a louder sound from both of them as she began clenching hard around him each time he thrust into her.  With one hand, his fingers dug into her skin and the silk of her robe.  The other appeared behind her head holding the sash of her robe, which she felt beginning to tighten around her throat.   

He wound it carefully until his fist rested behind her head, the sash wrapped around it tight.  She gripped his hair harder.  Loki twisted the sash tighter still until he could hear her breathing come in ragged, desperate breaths, and then began grinding up against her with the hard force of his thrusts. He seemed to be putting all his strength behind them and she could feel an ache in her thighs already.   

Yanking back hard on the sash, he forced her head backward to expose her throat.  A long, hungry lick ended in a bite just behind her ear.  "Say my name."  His voice was rough and low, desperation and danger, heat and want.  Most of all: close.   

She did, and came.  Half a dozen forceful thrusts later and he followed her, letting all of his weight down on top of her as he caught his breath against the crook of her neck and unwound the sash from her throat.   

She thought he would have laid next to her in his exhaustion, but instead he took her face in his hands.  Forehead against hers, he whispered something in a language she did not recognize.  She did recognize the feeling of the hair on the back of her neck standing on end, of a pit in her stomach.  And then strangely, a slight thrumming in her veins pulling her towards him.   

"I will always be able to find you now, and you me."  He sounded more loving than he ever had before.  He sounded resigned, resolute.  

Ilmr felt panic rise in her, the like of which she had not felt in the better part of a year.   

"Loki, what--" 

"--Remember what I showed you of the way out of Asgard." 

He pressed a chaste kiss to her lips, and was gone.   

She flew to the doors, yanking on their handles.  They did not budge; he had enchanted them so they would not open, it seemed.   

"If I do not return by dawn the day after tomorrow, the doors will open and you must take Vidar and Fenrir and flee." She heard him mumble something indecipherable.  "They will draw no attention to you or themselves now." 

She heard no more, despite her pleas.  When she turned back from the doors, she gasped.  Fenrir and Vidar had thick leather collars of some sort around their necks.  More than that, they were no larger than the largest Midgardian hounds she had seen in books.  

***** 

Ilmr had to idle away nearly an entire day in their chambers and she spent much of the time pacing.  She threw as much as she could, as many pertinent items of his and hers, into her rucksack: nondescript clothing for herself, a book he favored.  As much of her jewelry as she could fit and as much coin as there was in their rooms, which was considerable, thanks to the dowry.  Wherever she went should she need to flee, she would need currency, or to trade for it.   

She swallowed hard again and again on the lump in her throat.  The pit in her stomach grew so large she thought it might consume her.   

Nothing happened the entire next day and she thought she would go mad.  If any tried to access the chambers she did not know, she could hear nothing on the other side of the door since Loki had left.  

That night, she was roused from her attempt to read by a great quaking and a sound so loud she thought Asgard would fall into the stars.  Rushing to their balcony, she saw that the observatory was spinning faster than she’d ever seen.  That one figure wielded Mjolnir, breaking the Rainbow Bridge from the observatory: Thor. 

Thor had returned to Asgard somehow. She did not know what had transpired since she had last seen Loki that would have constituted such a meeting of brothers. Loki’s figure rushed Thor, Gungnir raised, but with a last, mighty blow the bridge disintegrated and a great explosion rocked the palace, tossed the observatory into the seas and the stars, and much to her horror, threw the two figures up high into the air and over the edge of what was left of the bridge.

A third figure appeared as the two figures careened over the edge of what was left of the bridge, catching them.  It appeared that one figure let go and fell into the stars after the observatory while the other let out an anguished cry in Thor’s voice.   

Appeared.  She knew Loki would not truly do such a thing.   

But dawn arrived, and Loki did not.  It was time to flee.   

*****

There were few people awake at dawn usually, save for servants.  Usually.  This day there was much commotion and she had to make for the passage between worlds that lay in the mountains with all stealth. 

But first she wanted to find out what happened.  The steady thrum under her skin that appeared at Loki's behest before he left was fading and it alarmed her.   

Yet she was sure he would not have truly let go; merely appear to.  There was no other option.  If what he had enchanted her with made it so they could find one another, that it grew fainter each moment meant that something truly terrible had happened.  She knew the truth in her heart though she refused to believe it.   

Vidar and Fenrir could sense her urgency and both padded silently behind her, ears flat.  They did not seem to notice their greatly diminished size, Vidar's head now only coming to her chest, Fenrir's to her waist.   

Ilmr ducked into an alcove and the hounds followed just before two servants came around the corner. 

"I always said he was trouble, no matter how much his princess changed him." 

"Suppose it doesn't matter, now.  One of the guards who was there said he let go.   _Let go_.  Fell into the great abyss.  Feel bad for his princess, but it's a blessing in disguise for her, isn't it?" 

Ilmr felt faint.  He _had_  fallen.  Had _let go_.  Of what she wasn't sure, but he had fallen into the endless abyss of space below the Rainbow Bridge.  She understood now.  Thor and Sif and the Warriors Three knew everything.  He had tried to keep her from the worst of it, but Ilmr knew what Loki did: they would likely consider her complicit regardless.  She was.   

Turning away, she stole out of the palace with all stealth, as though she were sneaking through an enemy camp.  And perhaps she was.  Whatever the finer details of what had happened in the past day, it was enough that, compounded by the grief and rage of the discovery of his Jotun heritage, Loki must have felt that death was the better option.  

Anger burst within her as stars in one's vision from a blow to the head.  Odin had driven him to it.  For now, she had to escape, but she silently promised she would return to avenge Loki. 

***** 

It had taken two days to get to the mountain pass while avoiding detection.  She remembered Loki had said that one had to have their destination clearly and definitively in mind in order to travel by this other road.   

She glanced back from whence she had come.  The palace and the surrounding spires still glittered gold in the sun.  The Rainbow Bridge was destroyed, bricks hanging off the end like loose teeth.  The observatory had fallen into the endlessness as Loki had.   

The thrum under her skin had vanished the day before and she had allowed herself only the one night to grieve.   

Turning away, she cleared her mind.  She had decided the only place she could go now was Midgard.  Going to Vanaheim or Alfheim was not possible, and she could not stay in Asgard.  She did not want to be in Nidavelir though Dgol would likely have harbored her; there were too many memories there that she could not bear.  The other realms were hostile.  Vidar and Fenrir were no longer abnormally large, and so Midgard it would be.   

She took many long minutes to focus and once she felt she was ready, she called the hounds to her side and walked straight to -and at the same time _through_ \- the mountainside, a hold on each of their collars. 

When all around her stopped spinning, she found herself standing on an empty, gray walkway in front of a black river, Vidar and Fenrir at her side.  There were huge, drab buildings all around her that looked like they would block out the sun in the day.  

She needed to shelter them and learn better the ways of the realm without being conspicuous.  She had chosen black riding trousers and an emerald green tunic.  From what little she knew it was likely she would blend in until she knew better the typical garb of the women of the realm.   

She walked cautiously, silently, through the streets.  Vidar and Fenrir kept close on either side of her unbidden, sensing her unease at the unfamiliarity all around them.  They were still tall and lanky and she brushed her fingers against their fur as they walked.   

The thrum had not returned and it was a small comfort to have Fenrir with her.  Grieving such loss was not the way of either she or Loki, but it took great effort to keep going and not sit down in her anguish. 

She had not known, until that moment, how much he had invaded her life, had truly made her love him.  

 


	13. Chapter Thirteen - Earning a Place in the Deserving of It

**Chapter Thirteen – Earning a Place in the Deserving of It**

 

A/N:  Sorry everyone! This is another one that got away from me and I kept adding to it.  This chapter is entirely from Ilmr’s perspective and I took much of the information about Loki’s physical state and the Tesseract from both _The Avengers_ and the credit scene in _Thor_. The lyrics in this chapter are from Hard-Fi’s “Tonight”.

 

_I ain’t got long,_  
 _So I need you_  
 _To believe in me,_  
 _Tonight, tonight  
_ _I can't lose you_

  

A sharp whistle called Vidar and Fenrir back to her.  The sun was in its second hour of wakefulness and she knew the park would soon begin filling with Midgardians and their myriad manner of hounds.   _Dogs_ , they called them.  One woman had remarked on her _Irish Wolfhounds_ and Ilmr had thanked her, filing away the name for future use.   

Three months in Midgard and she was growing impatient.  She disliked the city she had found herself in.   _New York City_  they called it.  The chambers were too small for the three of them and the parks were always crowded with misbehaved dogs and their equally unpleasant masters.  Their food was not entirely distasteful, but much of it seemed to be made from a refined sort of sugar.  The only tolerable music they boasted was a type called _Classical_.  All the others were entirely off-putting and were closer to noise than anything resembling music.   

She knew she needed to get back to Asgard and make right whatever had happened to Loki.  She did not lack for money, even three months later; the jeweler she had found was quite taken with the various coins and jewels she brought him from Asgard that he assumed came from Europe, like her accent, apparently.  He also seemed quite taken with her and considering the amount he paid her for her wares she did not dissuade him.   

The problem was the awful city, the claustrophobia it induced.  How the Midgardians seemed to relish destroying their realm. 

The problem was despite her best efforts, she appeared trapped on the unfortunate realm.  And Loki was gone. 

***** 

It was not much longer before she was unable to take the choked, ever-enclosing city.  She scoured the newspapers and advertisements and found herself a house for rent in what was considered  _the country_ : open spaces and forests and houses with many acres between them.  It was many miles from the city in a place called _New Jersey_ and she was only too happy to leave.   

She had not learned to navigate one of the steel deathtraps the humans called _cars_ , but she was able to hire one of the larger ones to have a mortal drive herself, her hounds and her few belongings out to the house once she managed to secure it from the owner.  

For the same cost of the tiny chamber she had rented in the city, she found herself in an open, airy home with a sprawling yard that backed up to a line of trees that blocked the next-closest house from view. 

It was much easier to bear Midgard in this new place, she found.  She also found a great blessing in the uncurious neighbors.  The house had _come furnished_ , which she discovered meant all of the belongings would remain; any she did not want, she agreed to store in the basement until such time as she left the property.  More importantly, Vidar and Fenrir seemed like they could finally breathe and properly stretch their legs.   

***** 

She had lived in _the country_ for two months when she awoke in the middle of the night to the feel of the steadily returning thrum under her skin.  It was faint, both in sensation and its upward tug, which she surmised meant he was either realms away, or near death somewhere above her.   

Throwing off her bed covers, she hurried to her roof.  Nothing.  He was not there. 

What she felt growing throughout the day, though the thrum remained weak, was a pain under her skin unlike any she had ever experienced before, even from the bite of iron.  Wherever he was, he was in excruciating pain.  Be it torture or an injury that silenced the thrum for so long, the result was a pain so encompassing that whatever Loki had done to enable them to find one another, it made her able to feel some level of the pain he did.   

By early evening it was overwhelming and she could do no more than feed Vidar and Fenrir with shaky hands before collapsing in bed again, curling in on herself and biting down against the cries of pain that threatened to escape.  It felt as though her skin was on fire, as though her very bones were being stripped of their muscle.  As though her bones were moments from becoming dust.   

And then the thrum stopped again.

***** 

For months on end, Ilmr would wake in the middle of the night to the return of the faint thrum, the pain would begin again shortly after and only end late in the evening when the thrum stopped once more.  Wherever he was, he was dying; again and again and again and Ilmr felt utterly helpless. 

She found a way to still exercise Vidar and Fenrir before the pain became too great for her, but it was a small consolation.  She despised Midgard.  The humans and their brash, uncaring ways, their penchant for war over small trifles; it was as if the minds of rock trolls had been placed inside beings that should, by all accounts, have been much more intelligent, given all that they somehow seemed to accomplish. 

Loki was being tortured, murdered again and again, day after day, and she was stuck on a realm almost entirely devoid of redeeming qualities.  All because Odin had lied.   

Odin acted as though he did not know his second son was all of those things she had told him at the announcement of their betrothal nearly a year ago: kind and generous and gentle.  But more than that, how the Allfather could not see that his second son so craved his approval, his regard.  That Loki was so cold and impassive because he was protecting himself.  No, Odin had compounded Loki's grief and upset, pushing him to his limit and expecting him to bear it as if it did not matter.  As if it were some trifling thing.   

She had to get out of Midgard.  She had to find Loki, save him from the fate he currently endured, and then they would face down Odin.  Ilmr did not believe Frigga had part in this; or if she did that Odin had required her silence against her better judgment.   

Odin would answer for his deeds. 

She had to find Loki. 

***** 

After nearly ten months of the recurrent thrum, pain, and then internal silence, Ilmr awoke once more to the thrum.  The strong, steady thrum and a nearly overwhelming ache and pain under her skin tugging her east.   

Tumbling out of bed, she rushed out of doors, ensuring Fenrir and Vidar stayed behind.   

A figure was stumbling towards her house, out from the tree line and through her large yard.  She ran. 

He had fallen to his knees by the time she reached him and she lowered herself to her knees and slipped into his arms to support him.  To feel him against her again. 

"Loki." 

He leaned his forehead against her shoulder at her voice, a quiet groan escaping him.  He was emaciated, with dark circles around his eyes, and feverishly warm.  His skin had burn marks in some places, deep lacerations in others.  He was frail and though quiet, his breathing was ragged, as though his ribs pressed in on his lungs. She wondered at how he made it to her alive. 

She let him rest against her for nearly an hour before carefully leading him to stand and taking his weight on fully as she walked him back to her house.   

Fenrir and Vidar stamped in place in excited impatience, but remained where she had commanded.   

He did not wake for two days, once she got him into the house and settled on her bed.  By then, she had allowed Fenrir to curl up beside his master.   

She was preparing tea when she heard his breathing change and, several minutes later, the sound of shuffled movement.   

"How long have I been asleep?"  His voice was rough from what sounded like too much use and then sudden disuse.  And right behind her.   

"Two days." She handed him her mug. "How do you feel?" 

He gave her a half-hearted smile, swallowing a mouthful of tea as he thought.  "Abused." 

She had spent so long thinking him dead, feeling some fraction of the pain he had, knowing he had died again and again.  Ilmr knew he would likely recoil but it did not dissuade her and she shifted forward what little distance there was and stood against him, though was careful not lean any of her weight on him; the pain under her own skin had lessened but had not vanished.   

"How did you escape?" 

She was surprised to feel his hand smooth over her hair and rest on her back.  "I didn't." 

She tilted her head back to see him.  His eyes were a brighter, bluer shade of green than they had ever been.  They had set him free, whoever it was that had tortured him.  "What would they have you do?" 

Loki sighed, stepping back from her and lowering himself into a chair, setting her mug on the table.  He looked so tired, still.  So used.  "They would require repayment." 

"For what, torturing you? They--"

"-They allowed me to live, and for it I must pay a price.  There is something I must do for them."

Ilmr scowled. Whoever "they" were, they would not get from him what they wanted, what they would use him for.  "You will not do this alone."

He glanced up from the nearly non-existent fingernails he was picking at. He had never had a nervous twitch before. "You will not assist me in this." It was barely a whisper as he dropped his eyes once more.

"I will not sit idly by while they use you and discard you when your use is at an end."

"They already know of you and your position is precarious. I must be cautious. I would not have you endure what I have." He was forceful but no louder than before.

"I already have!"  She watched his head snap up. "Everyday, for the better part of the past year, I have felt them torture you, felt you fade as their ministrations became too much for you to bear. _Everyday_ , Loki."  She shook her head. "You will not do this alone. I will not sit here useless to help you any longer."

Breathing out hard through his nose, he rose with great effort. There was a slight limp to his gait as he moved to stand in front of her. She watched as he took her face in his hands and watched her for several long moments. "My ring can protect you from most everything in the Nine Realms, but not this. He would destroy you, and make me watch in order to break me."

It was not a “they”. It was a “he”. There were few in the vastness who could do what was done to Loki. For all that he was slighter than his brother, he was nearly as strong, made almost completely of muscle and sinew. There were few who could have injured him so. Even Thor did not truly slow him when they battled on the Rainbow Bridge from what she could see. This "he" had broken Loki over and over. Had taken and given him life again and again. There were few with such abilities, but they existed. And they were terrifying. A shaky breath escaped her.

"Did you not say that I was your greatest weapon? Have you not told me that I have tempered you when you needed it most?"

"You will not sway me, Ilmr. Not this time."

"Nor you I."

Their staring contest ended when his knees began to buckle, and Ilmr slipped under one arm, helping him to sit again.   

"How long do you have to repay them?"  Ilmr grit her teeth against the surge of pain she felt under her skin.  It was clearly only a fraction of what he felt, and she wondered at how he was bearing it. 

He shook his head, breathing through the pain for several minutes.  "Not long.  A few more days perhaps until I am called back.  He is looking for something and I must locate it.  Once I do, I must report back to him."

"And if you don't find it?" 

"I will be brought back to him regardless and I will tell him of this realm." 

She felt the pit in her stomach grow deeper.  "And?" 

He gave her a rueful smile.  "And it is unlikely you would ever see me again." 

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end.  "And how do you expect to find this item when you can barely stand for more than a handful of minutes?" 

"I have seen it before.  I just do not know where exactly it is." 

Ilmr was quickly growing frustrated with him.  "I can locate it much easier, and you can convalesce here." 

"No." He made to stand and leave the room as a show of the end of the conversation.  Instead, he gripped the table with a curse.   

Her blood boiled.  "You would prefer I watch you bring about your own end?  This is madness." Helping him to sit again despite his fight against her assistance, she continued.  "I will feel the sting of your torture whether you will it or not.  At least let me earn my place in the deserving of it!" 

"I do _not_  want him to find you." 

Ilmr let out a frustrated growl.  "You said he already knows of me!" She sat herself in the seat adjacent.  "There are few in the cosmos who can bring and take life, who could hurt one of the Aesir, a Frost Giant, as you have been.  If he knows of me, he is already planning to use me, be it for himself or against you, or both. I know you know this. Let me deserve it.   _Please_ , Loki." 

He regarded her for a time in silence, fiddling with his tea as he did.  He placed a shaky, bony and beaten hand over hers, focusing his gaze on their hands when he spoke.  "It was not easy to be without you, either."   

His admission had been whispered. And hit her like the fist of a rock troll to her chest.  

"Then let me do this." 

She thought he would refuse her again.  He didn't.  He simply nodded.  "Very well.  Give me one more day, and I will tell you what I know of what I've seen, and then you can go searching." 

***** 

Ilmr had wanted to protest his request for another day until she realized it was so that should she return from her search at the last minute, they would not have been without any time.   

He rose no earlier the following morning, though he looked slightly less worse for the wear and the pain under her own skin was weaker still.  He was still hollow-cheeked and starved-looking, his eyes still an unnaturally bright, blue-green color not his own.  Whoever "he" was, Loki's control over himself was clearly conditional.   

"I have made a decision."   

She did not let him get farther than that phrase, placing several plates in front of him: an omelet stuffed with vegetables and greens, a porridge, and a large bowl of fruit that was nearly overflowing with brightly-colored melons and berries. 

He ate ravenously, unable to waylay eating for what he wanted to say. She tucked into an omelet of her own, picking wedges of melon and stray berries from the bowl between bites.  She had never done much cooking save for when prudent in the field mid-campaign, but she fancied herself a decent cook after so long in Midgard.  

Sitting back after a second omelet, he seemed far more alert.  "I have made a decision, Ilmr." 

"You will not dissuade me.  I will go in search of the item; you need to remain here.  If he will take you back, you must be as hale as possible in order to endure."   

"I will not dissuade you."  He scratched absently at Fenrir's ears.  The pup had barely left his side since his arrival four days before.  "We need a plan for what follows.  I will be taken back into the abyss from whence I came for a short time." He paused.  "At least, shorter than before.  I am charged with the ruling of this realm for him, in exchange for my life.  When I return, you must remain here." 

"No." 

"Ilmr, you know not what you sa--" 

"Do _not_  tell me I do not know what I say.  I know what _you_  say, and you would bring war to Midgard.  Do not think I will sit idly by and wait for your victory.  I would be a part of ensuring it." 

"You are part of my plan should the worst happen.  For that reason, you cannot be seen to battle alongside me.  You must make amends with Thor." He smiled to himself.  "He will undoubtedly make an appearance when the battle comes to his beloved Midgard's doorstep.  Should the worst happen, should I fail, he will bring me back to Asgard.  From a place of alliance, you will be able to bargain for my life, if not my freedom, with less question to your motives." 

She shook her head.  "He will not let you live."   

Loki grimaced.  She knew he knew she was not referencing Thor.  "It matters not.  I will not fail in this.  You have seen as well as I have the uselessness, the divided nature of the humans.  They cannot come together in order to defeat me.  That is why he will start here.  But," he finally glanced up to her from Fenrir. " _Should_  the worst happen, I would have you in a place where you would not suffer my fate; not at the hands of Asgard. And perhaps, within Asgard's protection, not at the hands of him, either." 

Loki had still not used "his" name.  He likely would not.  She would need to discover it herself.  For all that he was the God of Lies, if she guessed at his game, he would lay bare his plan.  He liked the deceit nearly as much as the game of intrigue it made for.   

She nodded, mulling over his words.  She did not like them, but she could also not deny that from a place of alliance with Thor, she could better bargain on Loki's behalf should she need to.  While the cost of Loki's life was steep, she could not say that he had undersold himself.   

"I must think."   

*****

She had discovered the village library shortly after her arrival in _the country_ , and while it was nowhere near as extensive or enthralling as Asgard's, it served its purpose.  The humans regarded much of what they knew of the other realms as folklore and myth, so much removed from the goings-on of the other realms that they had not had any dealings with them in millennia.   

A particularly well-read tome within the section titled _Science-Fiction/Fantasy_ , as if the humans thought themselves so special that they were alone in the vast universe, held the key she sought.   

Mistress Death consorted with one of the Titans.  With Thanos.  Aside from Odin, Ilmr did not know of a more gifted sorcerer than Loki, but Thanos was a being who could have done to Loki what he had: brought him to life and murdered him again and again, tortured him so severely, and brought that terrible, unsettling light to his eyes.   

She felt panic begin to dig into the footholds that had all but been erased, crawling up her throat and bringing the hair on the back of her neck to a stand as it did.   

He would not face down this Titan, this demon, alone.  She was not sure whether his plan would suffice, should he fail, but the thought of failure made her stomach lurch. He could not fail.   

In the time he had been gone she had come to accept that whether she willed it or no, she had a great love for Loki.  He could not fail. 

And if he did, she decided, she would tear through the realms, piece by piece, until she found him and returned them both to a place where they could be left in relative peace, albeit crownless and commandless. 

Greatest weapon indeed. 

***** 

"Did you enjoy your thinking?"  His voice came from her living room, where she found him sprawled across the couch, Fenrir and Vidar lounging rather contentedly on their sides.  An empty platter that had once held all manner of cut vegetables lay on the nearby end table.  They had gorged themselves, it seemed.  

"It was certainly useful.  Did you enjoy your garden of vegetables?" 

"Mmm." He lifted his brow, but kept his eyes closed.  "Much better than the sort of thing that passes as food in many of their establishments." 

"What sort of item is it that I'll search for?" 

He did open his eyes at that, his gaze raking over her from head to toe.  "Must you dress as though you are Midgardian?"

She smiled wryly.  "I could not fit my entire wardrobe in my rucksack, sadly.  Though I daresay I dress far better than most of the women in this realm." She motioned to the violet sundress she had acquired one of her first weeks in Midgard from a place called _Barneys_.  "Most of them can barely be bothered to go outdoors in anything other than rags.  But you avoid my question.  What is the item I will seek out?"  

He hesitated a long while. "The Tesseract.  And I prefer green."   

Her eyes widened momentarily.  "It lies on Midgard?  Surely you jest."   

He shook his head.  "Not at all.  I glimpsed it, as I found my way to you just a few days past.  I knew I could not physically seek it out yet but I knew I could cast a projection.  It's underground, a bunker of some sort."  He seemed to think over the memory.  "I was able to peer into the mind of one of the gentlemen there.  I believe they were in a place called New Mexico." 

Ilmr groaned.   

"Not a place you enjoy?" 

She shot him a look as she rose.  "It is a rather large place, from what I know from maps.  You know nothing more?" 

He shook his head, shifting as she breezed towards her bedroom.  "Off to think again?" 

"No." She poked her head back around the corner, a small smile playing on her lips despite herself.  "Off to New Mexico.  Likely in something green, if it so please my lord." 

He grinned.  "I do believe that was sarcastic." 

She made him wait until she had changed and prepared the few items she would need.  "It may have been."   

"You look remarkably unprepared.  But the choice of wardrobe is irreproachable." 

"I will not be gone overlong."  She was in a green dress with golden embellishments, an airy linen that served her well in the summer heat.   

"No?" 

"I imagine I'll return within a week, less if I get particularly lucky." 

"And how will you get close enough to be sure where it is?  From what I saw, the place was near brimming with guards."  His tone was taunting.  He had clearly already thought of how she would get close enough.   

"You are speaking entirely too much for someone who should be resting.  I will be back within a week.  If I do not return by the time you are called back, turn Vidar and Fenrir loose.  They will be able to fend for themselves and the neighbors will not bother them." 

"And they will know of your return how?"  He held out a necklace to her.  It was a delicate gold chain that held a glass disc. It tilted in the late afternoon sunlight and cast a shimmering, green and gold reflection against the wall.  "It will keep you hidden from eyes that would seek to harm you."  He gave a bitter smile.  " _Most_  eyes, at any rate." 

Ilmr kept from frowning.  He was clearly recovering, but not quickly enough if he did not understand her inference, but did understand that she needed some sort of concealment.  "They will know."   

***** 

She had only seen New Mexico on maps or in pictures of the geography books she had spent a good amount of time and money assembling in her home so that she would better understand the strange realm she had suddenly found herself stranded in.   

She knew it was mostly desert, and that was it.  Wherever the Tesseract was being kept, _if_  it was still there, would not be visible on any map.  She would need to search the desert until she found it.  It would likely take her more than a week.   

Upon arrival in the most remote airport she could find in New Mexico, a place called the Four Corners Regional Airport, she found it even less to her liking than New York had been.  She hadn’t liked _New Jersey_ either, but it was at least more pleasant than the choking city. She wondered briefly if all of Midgard was _New_. 

Before touching ground she had glimpsed from the window of the _airplane_ a land that had little of the greenery she was used to.  There was some, certainly, but it seemed to Ilmr that the place grew rock more than tree.  There was far more _country_ here than where she had been and had it not been for the desert, she would have considered moving. 

Had it not been for the desert and need to travel by such a contraption as an _airplane_. The trip to New Mexico was long and rather terrifying, when the metal tube she and a hundred or so others were trapped in started shaking because of something called "turbulence".   

She found that though she had been in the air several hours, that it was somehow earlier in New Mexico than it had been in New Jersey. Readjusting her rucksack, she sought out a place to bunk for the next week.  Ilmr had no desire to remain near the airport if she could help it; the sound of the machines was horrible.  

After a rather long walk she found an inn on the outskirts of the town.  It was a low, one-story building that while neatly kept, looked somewhat out of time. 

The chamber was small, but would suffice, with a bed, a washroom and what must have been an older version of the televisions she saw in most establishments.  

She hadn’t seen a library in her travels and she was unwilling to venture out to find one.  The walk was no longer than many others she had undertaken in foreign realms, but the sun in Midgard was more punishing than in Asgard somehow and she found herself wholly unable and unwilling to move once she had laid down on the bed. The next day, she decided, she would begin her search.  

***** 

Ilmr was unsure where to start looking, but she knew it wouldn’t be in any town.  Her best bet, she had decided, was to locate the local library and see what maps they had. 

On her way through the foyer of the inn, she noticed something she hadn’t before:  A small display with sheaves of paper in all manner of colors.  Glancing through them, she saw advertisements for something called _private charter flights_ to see the desert.  If there was an easier way to see much of the desert at once, she could not think of it.   

She disliked the idea of being so far off the ground again; still, she could not deny that it would take her less time to swallow her apprehension and climb back into another, albeit smaller, airplane. 

The rather helpful servant behind the desk reserved a date and time for Ilmr.  For two days, she would need to amuse herself in this place.    

There was very little to do, given how far towards the edge of town she was.  The library, the servant at the desk had told her, was a disappointment and that she’d be better off watching the television in her room. 

The servant had strange, ugly nails that did not look real and were far too long and Ilmr distrusted her regarding the library, given that cosmetic decision.  Being mindful of the sun’s heat, Ilmr borrowed an _umbrella_ from the servant at the desk and departed. 

The device proved very useful, as by the time she found the library, she would have been utterly exhausted without it. Despite the choices made in regard to her hands, the servant at the inn had been correct: the library was a disappointment.  Small, dusty, and lacking in any substantive reading material.  

Ilmr grudgingly turned back toward the inn, resigning herself to two days of silence.  Given what she had seen on televisions in many of the establishments in New York City, there would be nothing of worth to be found in the one in her chamber, either. 

When she arrived back at the inn, despite the umbrella, Ilmr still felt drained.  She laid across the bed in her chamber and stared at the ceiling.  Thanos.  Thanos had found Loki in the abyss and tortured him endlessly, killed him everyday again and again. 

And would take him back.  There was nothing she could do, she knew. Thanos would not appear in Midgard and reclaim him.  He would call him back in some strange, enchanted way and there would be nothing she would be able to do but watch.  

Ilmr had no idea how many others did his bidding for him, how many stood in between an adversary and the Titan himself, but she decided it was likely a good number of dangerous creatures from all edges and fortunes of the universe.  

And Loki was one of them.  If the Tesseract would somehow free him, she would use it to her advantage if she could.  

*****

It felt far longer, but two days later Ilmr found herself being driven by a servant to the site of the private desert tour that had been booked for her.  She was anxious to climb back into an airplane, especially one that looked so small, but it was the most efficient way to find the place she needed. 

She had never been faint of heart, but Ilmr nearly lost her nerve at the sight of the contraption: small, only for two people, with a device on the front that made it look as though it had to be wound up in order to make it fly.  Swallowing her fear and panic, she approached what was obviously madman and his airplane. 

Almost an hour into her “tour", her guide suddenly ceased chatting away over a headset about some such marvel or other and turned his tiny, terrible machine off course.   

"Is everything quite all right?"  Ilmr spied something large, dark, and low to the ground several miles off to the west of their current position.   

"Yes, ma'am.  Just a diversion from our flight path, is all.  There's some military training exercises about to begin a few miles due west of here.  Don't want to piss off the men in uniform!"  He chuckled at the joke she didn't understand.   

Whatever that black building was, it was where she was headed that night.  Whatever it was, it had what she sought.   

*****

Ilmr suspected that Loki was using the excuse of concealment and protection -although good excuses- as a way to present her with gifts.   

Fastening the necklace around her neck, she turned away from the inn and strode into the desert.  Though it hid her from Midgardian sight, she found did not hide her from the sun, when she had tried to leave shortly after her return from the airplane tour, and she was forced to wait until nightfall to begin her journey.   

It took hours.  What had taken an hour in the precarious flying contraption took her approximately three hours to traverse on foot.  By the time she could see the building on the horizon, she estimated it was just past the mid-night hour.  Another half hour, and she was met with a high fence made out of metal links, guards posted in each corner with some form of the black metal objects she recognized from news stories as a _gun_. 

Very carefully so as not to disturb the fence enough to make it rattle, she scaled it, using the wide holes as foot and hand holds.  Clambering back down the other side, she dropped quietly to the ground between the rotation of the armed guards.  She was not sure where in the building the Tesseract would be, but considering the size of the fortress, she would need as much time as possible to find it.  She decided she would start underground, given what Loki's duplicate had seen for him.   

It was labyrinthine and blindingly, brightly lit.  Even with a hand at her throat, fingering the disc to ensure it was in place, she felt as though the guards she slipped past could see her.  They all wore the same nondescript, black, three-piece suit, if they were men.  If they were women, they wore a strange black, form-fitting suit that looked to be one piece, with a strange, bulky belt at their hips containing all necessary tools and devices.   

Underground, the place was no less disorienting.  After wandering the place for nearly two hours, she finally found it.  A myriad of men and women in long, white coats and strange, transparent glasses bustled around a variety of tables and all manner of items in a variety of stages of completion.  They all looked like weapons. In the middle of it all, the Tesseract sat on a podium, glowing bright and blue. An older, slightly pudgy gentleman seemed to be in charge.   

A man with the same carriage as the armed men at the fence strode towards the doors she peered in.  He had what appeared to be a more modern, far more dangerous, form of bow.  He was staring at her. Taking a breath, she swept quickly and silently down the hall, ducking into the first alcove she found. 

“Barton.”  She could hear his voice echo down the hall, his footfall growing closer. Ilmr did not know who he spoke to. There were several moments of silence before he spoke again.  “Selvig’s got it covered, sir.  Whatever anomaly caused the spike in activity a few days ago, it’s gone now.” Silence again. “No sir, he can’t replicate it. He doesn’t seem too worried though, it caused no damage to itself or any of the prototypes.” 

The man passed the space Ilmr hid without acknowledgement of her presence.  While she did not doubt the sorcery in the necklace he had given her, the cold, clinical fortress made her feel as though each person she passed could see her regardless. It unnerved her entirely. 

Ilmr crept back out as quietly as she had arrived, thanking the fates that it was still dark enough outside for her to see the stars.  She glanced up again and again on her jog back to solidify the night sky in her mind.   

***** 

She remained in New Mexico only another day to rest and recover and work up her courage before stepping back onto an airplane.  For all their fragility, humans had a penchant for activities that ensured they would constantly wager their mortality for enjoyment.   

When she arrived home, Loki, Vidar, and Fenrir were nowhere to be found.  She assumed he was gone and had turned their hounds loose as she had instructed.  She wondered how she would attract Thanos’ attention so as to spare Loki his ire.  

Two of her wine bottles sat empty beside the sink.  Dishes were rinsed but remained in the sink itself.  The bed was pulled up but not made.   

She wandered into the living room and stopped short.  In his boredom while she was absent, he had apparently found himself doodling.  Again and again and again it was the same sloped, menacing grin that looked more like a grimace but for the curve at one end.   

In some instances, it was clear and crisp and terrifyingly realistic.  In others, it was shaky and drawn line over line until it was messy and bold.  It was drawn hundreds of times on countless pieces of paper, some blank, some torn from one of the Midgardian books he must have found particularly trivial.   

So wrapped up in what was before her, for once she didn't hear him behind her until he spoke. 

"My apologies; I meant to have this mess cleaned up before you returned."  He did not mean the dishes, the wine bottles, the bed. 

Ilmr shook her head, absentmindedly passing her hands over Fenrir and Vidar's heads as they rushed in to greet her. She was glad he had not been called back in her absence.  "It's -it's all right." 

As long as Thanos had some semblance of sway over him, Loki was clearly slightly delusional. _If_ it was because of Thanos' hold rather than the torture at his hands.  Or both.   

Ilmr did not hold much faith in the ways of Midgard, but for that reason, she felt the need to investigate further what its peoples had to say about Thanos.  The Titan clearly did not have much regard for the realm, which made Ilmr think that if there was a way to defeat him, it would have been hidden by the more intelligent peoples in the universe somewhere he wouldn't find it or think to look.   

Or perhaps that was why he wanted to start with Midgard: by destroying it, it would bring ruin to any record of how to defeat him.   

When Loki was gone, she would need to search.   

"Did you find it?"  He sat himself carefully, with great weariness, on the couch. 

"Have you been sleeping?" 

"No.  Did you fid it?"  He pinched the bridge of his nose.  This was one of the few habits she did recognize from before: he was irritated. 

"Yes."   

"And?" 

"And why haven't you been sleeping?"   

"Answer me." 

She regarded him carefully.  His eyes were unusually bright when they met hers and she needed to be sure of who she was speaking to: Loki, or Thanos'-puppet-Loki.  "I will only answer you if you will answer me.  Truthfully.  And first." 

He ground his teeth into the grimacing grin that was littered all over the room.  "Answer me."   

"I will speak only to Loki.  The true Loki."  She leveled her gaze at him and steeled herself, letting him see that she would not back down.  "My Loki." 

The grin did not falter.  He rose instead to tower over her where she sat.  "Answer me now, mongrel." 

She did not bat an eyelash.  Did not show the terror she could taste on her tongue.  "If you touch me, he will not help you." 

"He must." 

"If you touch me, he will intentionally lose the battle for this realm." 

The grimacing grin was lowered so that she was eye to brilliantly bright eye.  "You should have less faith in the Lie-Smith." 

"You should have more faith in me.  I will speak only to Loki.   _My_  Loki.  Until then, you may throw me all over this house; you will not get me to speak and when you must relinquish your hold on him, he will see what you have done and you will lose yourself a most powerful ally." 

"He is a pawn.  I will use him until he is utterly spent and drop his body at your feet, Princess.  Do not tempt me." 

"I do not need to.  You will attempt to break him regardless." 

A laugh that was entirely not Loki's was ripped from his throat in a sound so horrible she could see the whites of Vidar's eyes even as he stood his ground, could see Fenrir quake even as he attempted to follow Vidar's example.   

And then Loki slumped forward, falling to his knees before she was able to catch him.  He groaned as she took a better hold of him and hoisted him back onto the couch.   

"He will take me back, soon.  Maybe a day, two if I'm particularly fortunate." 

"Why have you not been sleeping?" 

He did not have it in him to fight with himself, it seemed, for he answered readily as he got comfortable on the couch.  "He haunts me." 

"The mortals are attempting to build weapons using the power of the Tesseract; whether by it or using it, I do not know.  But it is in New Mexico and they strive to create an arsenal."  She paused a few moments, sweeping hair out of his face.  It had grown so long.  “When you were sent here, the Tesseract reacted in some way that the mortals were able to detect.  Though they still do not know why the _anomaly_ as they called it, occurred.” 

He nodded and did not relinquish his hold on her hand but instead tugged it gently.  "Please, I am exhausted." 

Ilmr acquiesced, carefully climbing onto the couch to lay beside him.  Truth be told, she was still tired herself. 

He shifted so that she was lying half on top of him within his hold.  "You must be circumspect, Ilmr." 

She laid her head on his chest, her thumb absently toying with her ring.  "He cannot have you." 

He did not respond, and his breathing leveled out.  She remained awake far longer afterward, before her eyes finally grew too heavy and her mind too slow and she fell into a deep sleep. 

The next day, he was called back.  

 

 


	14. Chapter Fourteen - Making Probably Work In One's Favor

**Chapter Fourteen – Making Probably Work In One’s Favor**

A/N:  Aside from a brief stint in TDW, we’ll remain in Avengers-land.  I am having a _blast_ with Mr. Stark and his nicknames.  Just you wait.  The lyrics in this chapter are from the band I’ve spent the past fifteen years in love with: the Manic Street Preachers. The song is “Faster”. This is another song that constantly makes me think of Loki.  This chapter has a perspective change, it will start from Loki's perspective then shift to Ilmr's after the double page break. 

 

_I am an architect, they call me a butcher_  
 _I am a pioneer, they call me primitive  
_ _I am purity, they call me perverted_

 

"Well?" 

For an almost all-powerful being, Thanos' choice of residence was distinctly lacking.  Though Loki had spent much of his time dead or dying, he knew that there was little more to the Titan’s home than barren rock and thin air.  The Other came and went, on what errands Loki did not know, but even he seemed loathe to spend much time in such a wasteland. 

"It is there, in Midgard."  Loki did not mention that the mortals were making weapons with the Tesseract.  Keeping that information could be the difference between life and death for he and Ilmr.   

While he had been unsuccessful in keeping Ilmr from the Titan’s knowledge, it had taught Loki what he had to do to keep a secret from Thanos and to that end, he would guard knowledge of any weapons, such that they might be.  

Thanos nodded.  "Excellent.  You will conquer that pitiful realm and bring the item to me.  Only then will I make you the King of Midgard." His lip curled into the grimacing grin that haunted Loki whether waking or sleeping. 

"The Chitauri are ready?" 

"The Other still needs more time." 

Loki growled.  "We must begin soon." 

"You miss her already, do you?" 

It took all of Loki's willpower to remain still.  "No."  Yes.

"That mongrel will cost you dearly.  And herself." 

Loki could feel himself tremble with rage and he prayed it was internal, that he remained outwardly still.  "She will not be a hindrance." 

Thanos' smile widened and it sent a chill through Loki.  "She is only a hindrance."  With the wave of a hand, he summoned two of the supposedly unready Chitauri from nothingness.  "I have a task for you." 

Loki felt numb.  She would have no idea.  She would be unprepared.  She would be killed. 

Thanos' gaze slid back to Loki as he placed an item in each of their hands.  "There is a pest on Midgard that I need exterminated in order to ensure our success.  See that you do it.  Before you begin, ingest this.  I wish for him to see it." 

"I will not lead the Chitauri."  Loki's voice did not sound like his own. 

"Oh no?"  Thanos laughed.  "Perhaps flaying the flesh and muscle from your bones several thousand more times will change your mind.  Or if you prefer, I will have _you_  do the honor of killing her instead of the Chitauri.  But you have no say in this, and nothing to bargain with." 

"Myself." 

"You have already ransomed yourself."  He turned, nodding to the two waiting Chitauri.  "Proceed." 

Loki found that he was frozen in place despite himself, glaring at the grinning Titan who kept him still.   

"Now, now.  You will not want to miss this." 

***** 

It did not take long for the Chitauri to locate her.  From the eyes of the Chitauri peering through the windows, Loki could see that she was sitting with Vidar and Fenrir, pouring over books at her table.  There were several tomes scattered around her, some old and back-broken, some thick and dusty, some very thin and colorful.   

Loki saw her shift.  To Thanos, it likely looked as though she were simply readjusting.  Loki knew she was now tense.  She had heard the Chitauri near her home and was waiting for their imminent arrival.  Thanos would tear muscle and flesh from him again and again until the Chitauri were ready regardless.  This was an added torture.   

Fenrir stood and drank slow and deep of his water.  Loki realized she had been training him with some basic fighting maneuvers.  Vidar shifted to scratch his ear, inadvertently sitting up better.  How she trained them so, he could not fathom.  It was one of those things about her that was undeniably elven, he decided. 

Thanos had not caught on, too delighted with this new torture to look too closely, manic grin stuck on his face as he leaned forward as if anticipating th scent of spilt blood.   

A piercing screech split the quiet, but Ilmr did not startle.  She slid out of her chair, avoiding the wicked blade that narrowly missed separating her head from her shoulders.  A bright blast came from the staff of the other Chitauri and Fenrir dove out of the way, rolling and popping back up, hackles raised and teeth bared.  Even at a much smaller size, they lost none of their muscle and terror.   

With a short sound that Loki initially took as pain, Vidar leapt from behind her as she baited the first Chitauri a little too closely for Loki's comfort.  The blade went right towards Ilmr, and Vidar caught the Chitauri around the throat as he leapt from the left.   

Loki had never seen Vidar fight before, not really.  He had seen him spar, but had never seen him take on an enemy.  He shook the Chitauri as if it were a child's plaything, a crushing sound and a screech stopped short when Vidar's teeth met and the head went flying against the wall.   

One of the two images in front of he and the Titan disappeared from his view.  

Fenrir had grabbed the other by the leg, sinking deep puncture holes straight through to the other side.  A staff between the eyes had him slumping over, dazed.  Ilmr was there to protect Loki's pup, her fingers sinking into it's eyes and yanking back hard. Through a haze of blood in the remaining image, Loki saw her smiling at the high keening sound it made as it slashed away at the air.   

She took a deep gash to her arm, but it did not stop her.  She did not even seem to notice the injury as she continued the downward swing of her arm, plunging her blade into it's throat and tearing her arm to one side, opening the creature up from throat to spine on one side.   

The second image vanished from their sight. 

Thanos looked as though he would go himself to rip her limb from limb immediately.  Loki knew he would be tortured anyway, and so gave the Titan a smug, and hopefully distracting, smile.  "You're right, the Chitauri aren't ready.  I daresay she is more terrifying than either of those hideous beasts you sent to destroy her." 

Thanos merely raised his brow.  "If you should fail, I will bring her here.  I will not give her life and take it away each day as I have done to you.  I will take her life but once.  It will take a millennia and every moment of every day she will beg for her end.  And you will watch all of it before I put you through the same fate." 

Loki could only nod. 

*****  
***** 

Ilmr had not minded the quiet of her house before.  She had been lonely and terrified for Loki, but now that he had been there, that he was gone made whole house seem silent and still.  She spent an inordinate amount of time exercising and training Vidar and Fenrir, adding to her personal library, learning all she could of Thanos, and trying not to go mad with boredom and worry and failing. 

She was more terrified than she had been before when she spent endless days feeling Loki die over and over.  Because she had seen how fragile he had been, and because despite the strong, steady thrum in her veins, she was distracted by what the two creatures sent to kill her might have meant for Loki's fate.   

She was right, however, in that Midgard had a plethora of information about Thanos.  She was not sure what was true and what wasn't, so she kept reading, looking for the most consistent information she could find; the oldest, most ancient. 

It took weeks to hunt down much of use and even that filled her with doubt.  Thanos had much power.  Too much.  If she could find even a small fissure in his defenses, she was sure his overconfidence would allow her a small chance to strike him down in this one tiny spot of weakness, whatever it was.   

Closing the last book in the monstrous pile she had in her house, some borrowed some bought, she sighed.  If any of it was true, it seemed as though Thanos was in possession of at least some of the Infinity Stones, given his ability to take and give Loki his life at will. 

An ancient, faded picture of a gauntlet, six gems embedded in the metal, was emblazoned in her mind.  Almost every book had this image, though they were all drawings, some faded and hard to decipher, others crude and dark.   

It was hard for her to tell from what she gleaned if the gauntlet invariably held all the stones at once, if the item was destroyed even if the stones were not, or if it was truly myth that the stones existed at all and Thanos possessed such power either naturally or thanks to Mistress Death.

If this was truly the item that held the Stones and gave Thanos so much power, he would need to be relieved of it.  Ilmr was inclined, despite some doubt, that the tale of the gauntlet was a true one: were it not, it would not exist in so many varied tomes in nearly identical description.  He would still be a formidable opponent after parting with it, but Ilmr felt more confidence at the thought of facing him without the gauntlet than with it. 

With it, it was suicide.  Without it, it was only probably suicide.  And she had made probably work in her favor before.   

***** 

It was another six months and more torturous pain for both she and Loki before he returned to Midgard.  She knew he had come back because the pull was as strong as it had been when he had last been in Midgard.  She woke in the middle of the night to it steadily growing more insistent until the thrum was pulling her southwest.  

The Tesseract.  He had gone to fetch it, she knew, and then he would begin his war for the repayment of his debt to Thanos.  

She could not sleep for the excitement and instead prepared herself and all that she, Vidar, and Fenrir might need.  She knew as soon as he unleashed whatever sort of battle it was that Thanos had bid him to, that Thor would arrive and she would need to be ready.   

Ilmr knew Thor was fond of her and whatever reasoning he had decided upon for her departure, she knew it would not take an especially long time for her to sway him.  It would be others in Asgard, like the Warriors Three, like Sif, that would need the true convincing. 

Ilmr did not have to wait overlong.   

Not half a week later, there were stories in the paper and on any television she passed in a shop about an incident the previous night in a place called Stuttgart, in Germany.  A far-away photograph depicted a large crowd and four identical figures with horned helms standing above them.   

Loki was back. 

And taken into custody, if reports were correct. The reports were strangely vague as to _who_ had taken him into custody but a photo and name she had seen many a time since arriving in Midgard had had a hand in apprehending him:  the Man of Iron.  There was another, a man being called the Captain of America that she was previously unfamiliar with.   

It crossed her mind that though the peoples of Midgard might have been divided, perhaps there were a few among it’s vast population that could pose a threat.  

She did not have long to think on such a thing.  A happy yelp from Fenrir that afternoon alerted her to Loki's presence in her home.  He had not moved from where he appeared in her kitchen, a hand holding to her counter.   

"You escaped."   

He nodded, giving her a manic smile.  She had once seen only cruelty in the curve of that smile, but now there was genuine mischief in it though he was still in some pain.  "Thanks to my brother, no less.  You are ready?" 

"We are." 

Loki merely nodded.  "The battle will begin in New York City." 

Ilmr groaned.  She loathed returning to that place.  "How do I find Thor?" 

Loki smirked, clearly pleased with himself. "He should be fairly easy to find, actually.  A rather large crater was blown into the coastline not too far out of the city.  I'll put you down nearby.  You'll convince him of your quest to bring his poor, misguided brother home?" 

Rather than nod, Ilmr made her eyes fill, taking in a ragged breath.  "Thor, you must understand, he's not himself – I just know it, Thor.   We must take him home." 

Loki laughed and crossed her kitchen in two strides despite the lingering pain.  In response to her display, he kissed her: hands on her face, tongue in her mouth, bright, feral eyes closed.   

When it broke, she found herself, Vidar and Fenrir in a field of tall grass and wildflowers, the sound of the ocean rather close. Loki squeezed her hands.  "Be cautious."

Ilmr nodded, and he was gone. 

***** 

Nearly an hour later, she walked from the beach back into the field, Vidar and Fenrir chasing each other in play as they followed her. 

Seeing a figure that, despite it’s distance, lost none of it’s imposition and size.  "...Thor?"  Her voice was cautious, disbelieving. 

He turned slowly, his face the picture of happy confusion.  "Lady Ilmr!  Sister!"   

She found herself in Thor's crushing embrace faster than she imagined.  "Thor!"  For all her strength and experience, she found she was never quite prepared for his rib-crushing hold.  And more often that not, she found her voice escaped her as a breath because of it.   

He held her at arms length.  "What fortuitous timing, my sister!  Have you been on Midgard all this time?"   

She was wary of his immediate acceptance.  Odin's heir was far cannier than most gave him credit for.  "Vidar, Fenrir and myself, yes.  Since..." She had not allowed herself grief all the time she had thought Loki dead, but now she allowed it to creep into her voice and visage for the sake of the act.  "...since Loki ...fell." 

Thor looked as uncomfortable as he did mighty.  "You saw him fall?" 

She nodded.  "After we returned from Jotunheim -after Odin _banished_  you," she made the word sound like a curse, "he bid me draw myself a bath while he saw to a task he would not name.  When I stepped out, he had returned, but he wasn't himself, Thor.  He was -something was wrong."   

Thor made a face.  "Come, walk with me.  I would hear your tale, but I must hurry.  You may be able to help." 

Falling in step, she continued.  "He seemed as though in a trance.  He told me that Odin had fallen into the Odinsleep and that your mother did not know when he would wake.  You were banished -he had been made King.  But he was morose, he could not focus."  Ilmr paused, remembering the look on his face at his revelation.  "He told me he was Jotun.   _Showed_  me.  And then he cast an enchantment to keep me in our chambers and keep others out." 

Thor nodded.  "Sif had tried to reach you.  She grew suspicious when she could not and so she and the Warriors Three made for Midgard to retrieve me." 

She nodded and breathed a sigh of relief internally. Sif had unwittingly provided her with the innocence she needed.  "If she knocked, I did not hear her. But from our balcony I could see it: the battle between you.  I didn't understand what he meant, before he left."  At this, Ilmr let herself tear up again.  This was true and she had tried not to think on it. "He had told me that if he didn't return, to make for the pass between worlds that Heimdall was blind to.  It didn't make sense to me, why he would say that, but then he was gone.  When he let go, I realized: he thought so little of himself, of the opinion his family must have had for him, that he was anxious his deeds would cast a shadow on me." 

"You fled."  He did not ask.

"Even so.  I did not know what else to do, in my grief, and I could not bear to stay.  Everything reminded me of him, Thor.  Exiled from Vanaheim of my own volition and Alfheim by association.  Asgard had too many painful memories, and I was worried he was right, about why he wanted me to flee.  I did not think he was, but I couldn't be sure.  He had always had an uncanny sense of the nature of others, but I couldn't be sure if it was his rage and grief that spoke for him." 

Thor put an arm around her.  "It was his rage and grief, no more.  Mother and I -and Father, in his own way- have missed you and they would be much pleased to see you come home." 

She nodded.  "I would very much like to, if you would have me.  I cannot say it will be easy.  There are days I forget he is gone, and there are others when I fear the only thing I can do is drown in my upset." 

Spinning her to face him, Thor placed his massive hands on her shoulders carefully enough that for once it did not inadvertently make her knees buckle.  "I would ask your help, sister, though I do not pretend it will be easy." 

"What do you mean?" 

"Loki, he is not dead, Ilmr." 

"I saw him fall, Thor.  He is gone."  She struggled to release herself from his hold.  Thor believed her.  She believed she would be able to keep Loki safe if the worst happened.  At least, somewhat safe. 

"Ilmr, I swear to you, he lives.  I have seen him this day.  He brings an army to Midgard, the Chitauri.  He would have dominion of this realm." 

"That is madness."  She believed that, as well.  If Loki had not had to buy his life with such a ransom, she did not think he would have done it.  Had many things not happened, she did not think he would have done it.   

"Something is wrong, Ilmr.  He is not himself.  I would have you come with me -us- to try to make him see reason.  The mortals do not care if he lives or dies.  It is only me -and you, now- who would see him home safe." 

"Who constitutes this ‘us’?"

"There are six of us: myself, the Man of Iron, a man who becomes something the mortals call "The Hulk", the patriot called Captain America, a man with the Eye of a Hawk and a woman they call the Black Widow.  We have been brought together to stop Loki and keep Midgard safe.  So far, we have all but failed and he will unleash his army soon." 

"Where?" 

"The Man of Iron, Tony Stark, believes it will be in New York City.  Come, we must make haste." 

"And what would you have me do, Thor?  I cannot say I will be of any use.  I have thought him dead all this time, and now you tell me he lives?  What if I am too overcome to be helpful?  What if I cannot reach him?  What if--" 

"Sister, please.  I have much faith in you.  You will not waver and you will help him see. Even if he cannot now, you will help him understand once I bring him home." 

Thor thought Loki would fail.  Thor, with his small contingency, would not let Loki succeed.   

"I will do my best."  Loki had to succeed. 

Fenrir brushed against Thor, finally unable to be patient for attention from the Thunder God who would visit him often in Asgard. It seemed as though Thor had noticed them, he hadn’t truly realized until that moment that the creatures were he was looking at were actually Fenrir and Vidar. 

"...Why are they so small?" 

She turned to see the two hounds following them.  "Vidar and Fenrir?  That was a charm Loki placed upon them, so that I could better hide wherever I went.  The collars keep their true size hidden." 

Thor nodded thoughtfully.  "The time may come very soon when they no longer have need for them." 

"I will do whatever I must, just let me help ensure he is safe.  I could not bear it if he were lost to me again." 

Eyes gauging the sky, Thor began to swing his hammer.  He held an arm to her when he was prepared.  "Hold tightly, Ilmr.  We must go now." 

Instead, she placed Fenrir in his arms.  She climbed onto Thor's back as she had seen small children do with their fathers and whistled for Vidar.  Hesitantly and with great care, he clambered up into the space between Ilmr’s body and Thor's head.  She gripped both Vidar and Thor as tight as she could.  "We are ready." 

***** 

Loki was right - Thor's location was not that far from the city.  He was wrong to think his army was his.   

"Loki!"  The rage in Thor's voice was barely contained.  Loki stood on the top balcony of the tower that belonged to the Man of Iron, the Cube atop a strange pedestal. 

The Tesseract had been activated and Chitauri poured from the sky above down onto the city.  Vidar stayed close, crouched and hackles raised.  Fenrir, despite his desire to greet his master, stayed by Ilmr's side at her command, his eyes roving between his Master and the creatures shrieking into existence above him.   

"Loki, this must end."  Ilmr motioned for the hounds to remain where they were as she stepped towards him.  In his anger, Thor did not see her small, subtle motion.   

Appearing behind her, Loki held a scepter reminiscent of Gungnir across her throat, her head leaned back onto his shoulder.  Thor countered them step for step cautiously.   

"The Chitauri will recognize you, in their hive mind.  You must be cautious."  The words were barely a whisper against her ear and from the corner of her eye she could see him staring Thor down, the manic grin plastered on his face.  If his lips moved when she spoke, she did not see them. 

"Release her, Brother!  Do you not remember your wife?  Would you do her harm?" 

"I seek only to protect you."  His voice was a whisper again, but in the same low tone she knew he used to comfort her, to rile her.   

In one smooth, graceful move, he shifted the scepter away and shoved her over the edge of the tower and towards the large, wider balcony two floors below.   

Tucking and rolling, she landed hard and popped up, able only to watch as Thor engaged Loki.  Vidar and Fenrir, blessedly, heard her whistle as she fell and remained still.  She felt as helpless as she had when she could feel the torture he endured day after day and could do nothing.   

She saw Loki roll over the edge, too far to one side to catch the outcropping she stood on.  Biting down hard on any sound, she breathed a sigh of relief as he landed instead on one of the flying chariots of the Chitauri.   

The balcony shuddered as Thor landed beside her, Vidar in one arm and Fenrir in the other.  "We must hurry, sister.  He is beyond himself." 

Wrapping her arms around his neck, Ilmr let Thor fly them from the building.  He landed moments later, in front of three of his compatriots: a man and a woman dressed in S.H.I.E.L.D. uniforms and a man in a uniform that mimicked the country's flag.   

"Not sure we need a visit from the ASPCA right now, Thor."  The man from S.H.I.E.L.D. appraised Ilmr and found her wanting.  She recognized his face and his weapon from her mission to New Mexico and assumed he was the man with the Eye of a Hawk. 

Thor had the sense to give him a confused, affronted look.  "This is my sister, the Lady Ilmr.  She is here to help.  She and her hounds." 

"I don't remember reading about you having a sister.  Or hearing."  The woman with hair not unlike Ilmr's own, but far shorter, gave Ilmr a once-over.  The Black Widow, presumably.  She found Ilmr worthy of caution.   

"Truthfully, I do not.  She is Loki's wife, and here to help put an end to his schemes." 

The man Ilmr assumed was the Captain of America spoke up as he saw the others immediately take a defensive stance.  "How do you know she's here to help?" 

"Loki tried to throw her off the tower when she attempted to make him see reason."   

The others nodded.  They were reluctant, but had little choice.  And almost immediately distracted as several of the Chitauri swept in.  Ilmr dove out of the way of the blasts sent from their staffs.  Whistling, she reached for the collars Vidar and Fenrir wore while the others fought off their attackers.  She could help once she knew her hounds were safe and able to better defend themselves.   

"Whoa."  The Hawk-Eyed man blinked as Fenrir and Vidar grew before her.   

She was surprised herself.  It had been more than a year that Fenrir had been enchanted and she did not know how big he would be.  Vidar had grown some, though very little, and stood now half again her size above her.  Fenrir's chin brushed the top of her head.   

"They might be useful."  The Widow gave Ilmr an approving nod.   

Giving them the command, both dropped into a defensive stance behind her.  They did not have to wait long.  Loki had been right - the Chitauri were a hive mind and remembered her.   

The S.H.I.E.L.D. members were skilled, though they had few weapons.  The Captain seemed to possess an inordinate amount of strength, for a mortal, and his shield was fair indestructible.   

"Did you do something to piss them off?"  The Widow shouted to Ilmr as she engaged in hand-to-hand combat.  If the situation were different, Ilmr would have enjoyed an opportunity to spar with her.     

Ilmr ducked an attacking Chitauri, cutting him off above the knees before burying her sword in its face as it fell.  "Two of them came for me months ago.  I didn't know what it meant, what they were, but I disposed of them.  When Thor named them I didn't know that they would be the same creatures, but they seem to know me from my encounter with their brethren." 

The Hawk made a face.  "And you _married_  the guy that sent those things after you?" 

Ilmr slid to her left and Vidar neatly plucked one of the Chitauri out of the air as it leapt for her, shaking it so hard it flew into pieces.  "Yes.  More than two years ago, now.  He is not himself.  He fell into the abyss of space and—“ She whirled, taking several minutes to fight off a pair of Chitauri before continuing.  "--and I believe whatever he found there tore him apart and rebuilt him for a price.  A very steep price." 

Fenrir had clamped down on the midsection of a Chitauri sneaking up on the Widow, grinding his teeth as he shook his head in imitation of Vidar.  When he released what was left of the creature, his tongue was lolling out of his mouth in delight.   

Now that he had a taste for the blood of the Chitauri, he seemed perfectly pleased to have more.  Ilmr smiled watching him launch himself onto another, tearing at it's face and stomping his massive paws into it's belly, nails tearing through it's skin once he'd pulverized it's armor, disemboweling the monstrosity in little time.  It looked like deadly, deadly puppy play. 

"Did you teach them this?"  The Captain sounded winded, but no less authoritative for it.  He appeared to be the unspoken leader of the group. 

"Yes; at least, I taught Vidar in whole.  Fenrir was Loki's pup and he did much of his training. When he fell I took his pup with me and have been training him since." 

The puttering sound of a motorbike came from behind them, interrupting them, and a disheveled man tossed the bike aside.  "This all seems…horrible."   

"Stark! Banner's here." 

Ilmr did not know to whom the Captain spoke, but moments later, one of the behemoths that carried the Chitauri came crashing around a building, what could only have been the Man of Iron barely escaping it.   

"I don't see how that's a party."  The Widow seemed nervous for the first time, speaking to someone that again Ilmr did not see.   

Ilmr had seen many things in her long life, but she had never seen such as the man from the motorbike, "Banner", transform from his mortal form into an enormous, green monster.  An enormous green monster that with his mere fist halted the behemoth.  He was an unstoppable force, it seemed.   

A great, blood-curdling cry came from above and a swarm of the behemoths came through the portal that the Tesseract had opened.   

"Call it, Cap."  The Man of Iron addressed the patriot.   

"Barton, I want you on that building, call out strikes and patterns.  Stark, anything gets more than three blocks out you turn it back, or turn it to ash.  Thor, you have the lightening - light the bastards up."  He nodded then to the Widow and Ilmr.  "We'll keep the fight here.  And Hulk."  The green monster turned, a bizarre, barely-contained rage-filled smile on his face.  "Smash." 

After that, Ilmr barely had a moment to think, relying instead on instinct alone.  She kept glancing to Fenrir and Vidar, a fleeting sense of pride filling her each time; glad of their skill, glad they still lived.   

The Chitauri had landed a myriad of cuts and blows to her person and Ilmr silently thanked Loki for the ring she wore - the smallest cuts were already healed and the larger ones would be closed by the end of the day.   

"We've gotta get back up there, we have to close the portal."  The one they called Captain had paused momentarily to take stock while she and the Widow continued their assault.  

"I can get up there."  The woman sounded exhausted. 

"You'll need a ride." 

"I've got a ride."  She was eyeing the flying chariots of the Chitauri. "I could use a lift, though." 

Watching her leap onto the next passing chariot with the help of the Captain, Ilmr admired her; though the agent clearly distrusted her.  A mere mortal, yet she was supremely skilled and exacting.  And fearless.   

Ilmr had not seen Loki since leaving the tower, and she was worried for him.  She had little time for it, however, with the new onslaught she and the Captain now faced.  

A yelp caught her attention and to her horror, Vidar had taken a blow from the electrified staffs to one of his hind legs.  It did not look as though it would be life threatening in another situation, but it would be on this battlefield; the Chitauri would quickly overpower him if they could.   

Catching Fenrir's attention, she bolted for her hound, tossing one of her knives into the throat of a Chitauri approaching Vidar for a killing blow as he limped and bristled.   

Placing herself in front of him, she angled her sword across her body.  Fenrir took a defensive stance on the other side of him and between them, kept him safe.  It bled profusely, and when she was able to spare a moment, she tore off a shirt from a fallen mortal and bound the wound to apply as much pressure as possible until she could better treat it.   

***** 

Ilmr did not know how much longer the fighting lasted.  It seemed hours, but was likely less, her worry over Vidar making time slow down.   

She found herself and her hounds atop the tower sooner than expected, however.   

The group faced down Loki, who was leaned against a small set of steps looking more battered than she had seen him since he first arrived in Midgard many months ago.  The floor had Loki-sized craters in them and she shuddered inwardly to think how he must have been thrown to create such destruction.  The ache she could feel in her bones was likely a mix of his pain and her own exhaustion. 

Keeping to one side, she tended to Vidar's injury as best she could.  Fenrir sat patiently beside her, keeping watch.  He disliked the position of his master, it seemed, but was intelligent enough to obey Ilmr despite his apparent desire not to, given his slight fidgeting.  

Thor turned to Ilmr once the rest of his company had Loki well in hand.  "Sister!  How do you fare?"   

"I am fine; healing.  Fenrir too is hale.  Vidar was not so lucky.  He needs a healer."   

"We can bring him to the Helicarrier, they'll--" 

"--No."  Ilmr cut off the Captain and apparently insulted everyone in front of her except for Thor and Loki.  The latter seemed to be trying not to smirk.  "I will not bring him there." 

"Distrustful, for someone who should be trying to prove herself trustworthy."  The Hawk's eyes narrowed at her as he spoke.   

"I hold no illusions that a creature such as Vidar -or Fenrir- would not garner much attention and interest from your organization.  I will not subject them to their scrutiny." 

"As the wife of a war criminal, you should probably get used to it."  The agent was unfazed.   

"I gather that the missile sent towards this city in a thwarted attempt to end this battle was sent by the same organization you were, and yet they do not incur the same name?  No, I will not subject him to your scientists."  She glanced to Thor.  "He is not so grievously injured he cannot wait a short while.  I would see him treated at home.  He, and my husband."  She caught the small, fleeting smile Loki graced her with at her reminder to Thor of Loki's title and privilege. 

Thor nodded.  "It will be done."  He held up a hand as the man went to interject.  "It is not your say, Agent Barton.  I have spoken.  Her hound will be treated on Asgard, as will my brother. I, too, will not suffer them to bear the curiosity your scientists."  

Thor glanced around at the sound of heavy boots crunching through glass.  A tall man, bald and sporting an eye patch approached.  "Good work."  He glanced to Ilmr.  "I don't believe we've met." 

"She's Loki's wife."  Barton cut in before Ilmr could speak.   

The man's eyebrows shot up.  "I believe there's a lot you could tell us." 

"I believe we will not have time to speak.  I will return to Asgard on the morrow with Thor, my hounds, the Tesseract, and Loki." 

"The Tesseract doesn't belong to you."  His voice was dangerously low and he'd crossed his arms over his chest.  Ilmr found herself unimpressed and from the increasing clench of the man’s jaw, her face showed as much. 

Thor stepped in. "Nor does it belong to you; it belongs in Asgard, under the protection of the Allfather.  The Lady Ilmr is right.  We will leave on the morrow.  All of us." 

"Thor--" 

"Enough!"  His voice echoed through the room.  She noticed Loki flinch out of the corner of her eye.  He must have been in excruciating pain for it to bother him so, though all she could feel was the mild ache all over.  "I said we leave on the morrow.  There will be no waylaying, no interrogating; nothing.  You will remand my brother to my supervision.  The Lady Ilmr and her hounds will not be detained.  The Tesseract will be returned to me and by it, we will return home." 

No one present sought to argue.  

 

 


	15. Chapter Fifteen - Claiming Fault

**Chapter Fifteen – Claiming Fault**

 

A/N: I was really excited about this chapter! Remember that semi-truck of feels I mentioned ages ago?  Yeah, beep beep mofo, delivery time!  (It is Ilmr and Loki, so it’s feels in their own stunted, half-spoken way, but still). I was also excited because Ilmr was stuck in their chambers for most of the events of “Thor”, so she knows nothing of the Destroyer or Loki’s interactions with Thor on Earth. This is the first time she’ll hear of them and I was excited to see her reaction.  This chapter will start off from Ilmr’s perspective and after the double page break, switch to Loki’s.  Lyrics in this chapter are from Florence and the Machine’s “No Light, No Light”. 

Also, I’ve started work on a sequel (though there is plenty left to go in this story!) that is AU with some familiar faces thrown in, but focuses mostly on some events after this story that I’m creating from a myriad of Marvel Universe information.  It’s still in very early stages and I’m just trying to gauge interest: thoughts on seeing _more_ stellar family dynamics, this time in the context of Ilmr’s family?  (New stakes, new rules, new characters, but like I said, some familiar faces, all set within an AU Marvel Universe)

  

 

_Would you leave me, if I told you what I've done_  
 _'Cause it's so easy to say it to a crowd  
_ _But it's so hard, my love, to say it to you out loud_

  

It was at once strange, comforting and nerve-wracking to be back in Asgard.  Loki arrived in chains, mouth clamped shut.  Upon arrival, Eir herself took Vidar from Ilmr's care to treat him in the healing rooms.   

Thor, Ilmr and Loki were ushered directly to the throne room.  Strangest of all, Ilmr found, was the need to suppress the urge to take Loki's arm.  It was with her hand on his arm, his hand over hers, that she last traversed the halls of the palace.  Given the glances he threw her, Loki seemed to be thinking similarly.   

Frigga stood to one side. Odin perched on his throne.  Thor walked with Ilmr behind Loki and the veritable swarm of guards around him.   

Loki's heartache spoke for him, at once bitter and sardonic.   

“You don’t recall?”  Odin’s voice was strained and Ilmr was not entirely sure he wouldn’t kill Loki on the spot for his insolence.  For claiming he remembered none of what happened. 

“Mortals are trifling things, made to be ruled.” 

Odin nodded once, a cruel smile curving his lips. “And what of Thor? Refusing to end his banishment, claiming I was dead, sending the _Destroyer_ to Midgard after him?  Are the God of Thunder, the Warriors Three and Sif trifling things?”

Ilmr’s face betrayed nothing.  Loki had set the Destroyer after his brother and his friends in order to keep the throne he thought would be threatened, that he thought would be taken away.  To reverse the failure he felt he had brought on both himself and Ilmr when he was not named heir. 

“If Thor had returned, rule would have been transferred. He was not ready to be King.” 

“It did not appear as though you were much ready.” Odin gave a wry smile. 

“I hold no illusion that you think well of me. But I did not usurp your throne. I was made King. Rightful King.” 

Thor had been banished, Odin had fallen into the Odinsleep. That had left only Loki, Ilmr realized. That was the shock he had come to her in.  Between being crowned King and finding out his parentage, he was truly overwhelmed. It was not a feeling he had likely felt before. 

“You told my son I was dead and refused to return him to his home.  Told him his mother did not wish to see him ever again.” 

Loki gave a mocking half-bow.  “And now you would return the favor: you would act as though I am dead to you, I will be remanded to the dungeons as a criminal and not treated as though this is my home.  You would make it so that my mother and my wife do not wish to see me again.” A wicked smile curved Loki’s lips and Ilmr knew she could not stop him.  “That is your type of justice, I think Allfather.  The eye for an eye, as it were.” 

Odin looked as though he would remain permanently red. 

Loki was afforded a place in the dungeons to await his trial, the date for which had not been set.  Odin did not seem particularly rushed to set one.   

He was removed far more roughly than necessary and shown to his cell.  Odin motioned for Ilmr to approach him.   

"Allfather."  She bowed. 

"Lady Ilmr.  It has been some time since we last saw you." 

Inclining her head, she graced Odin with a small smile.  "Nearly two years, yes." 

"Why would you have left Asgard?"  His smile was stony and cold. 

"Because my husband bid me do so.  He was--" 

"--You are not one to follow direction." 

Ilmr continued as though Odin had not interrupted.  "He was distraught.  Dedicating his life to chasing the fleeting sense that he was his brother's equal.  And then to discover he was not of your parentage, but that of a realm he had been taught to fear and loathe?  You saw as well as I did: he _let go_  on the edge of the Rainbow Bridge.  He thought death to be preferable to an existence of certain loathing by the realm.  He was least-loved before: of his family, his friends and the people when he thought himself the son of Odin.  But the son of a Frost Giant?" She shook her head.  "He told me to flee and at the time, I did not understand.  He said if he did not return, I should flee.  I saw him fall, and when his enchantment to keep me in my rooms expired, I fled.  I understood, then: he thought so little of himself, of what you thought, that he was fearful that same feeling would be thrust upon me." 

Odin shifted on his throne.  "Do you think so little of us?" 

"I think you have been open and welcoming to me, Allfather.  I think, however, Loki was not given the same luxury.  Not from what I had seen, and certainly not now." 

"You would ask that I pardon him for his crimes?"  Odin sounded incredulous, indignant.  

"No, I would expect you set a trial date as opposed to letting him rot in a cell until he has collected enough spite and hatred to sabotage himself, which is what I suspect you are hoping he does, so that your decision is an easy one." 

"He has poisoned your mind."  Odin spat.

Ilmr shook her head.  "No, Allfather.  I have seen him just as you have, but I have noticed more, I think.  Because I knew him better before, perhaps." 

"Do not speak to me so."  Odin's voice was dark and tinged with danger. 

"You know as well as I that none fall into the abyss and live to speak of it without paying a price too terrible to name.  And Loki would not, for his pride.  Your _son_  was torn asunder again and again; tortured and murdered nearly every day since he fell.  He was _broken_  and bargained for his life." 

"And how would you know this?"  Odin looked amused; it made Ilmr nauseous.  Frigga looked ill herself.  Thor simply stared, jaw clenched.   

"I have felt it.  Before he left my side for the last time in Asgard, he placed upon me an enchantment so that he could always find me."  She did not mention that she could also find him.  "He did not count on it allowing me to feel the excruciating pain of his torture." 

Odin scoffed.  "A fine tale." 

"How many do you know of that consort with Mistress Death?"  Ilmr let her voice take on a sharp edge.   

"What?" Odin's voice had a trace of uncertainty.  Had she not been looking for it, she might have missed it. 

"How many can make and unmake someone so?  Loki has always been mischievous, ambitious.  But the Tesseract?  You know as well as I do that it was not his intent.  If you claim to know your son, then you know what I speak is the truth.  You know the power of which I speak.  You know the being of which I speak." 

"I do not believe you." 

Ilmr smiled, humorless.  She watched Odin for a stretch of time, studying the lines in his face, the set of his mouth and the tiny furrow in his brow.  "You should try to appear more convincing in your disbelief then, and less nervous."  She bowed once more and straightened.  "I am truly thankful for your hospitality and kindness, but I must now require the same of you for my husband -your son.  A date must be set for his trial, I will not suffer him to rot in the dungeons." 

She should have been more concerned for her position in Asgard, but she felt no such worry.  Thor and Sif could speak to the truth of her words; Loki had ensured the safety of her position in Asgard and so she would use it as leverage for him now.   

*****

She wasted no time in making her way to the dungeons.   

"Ilmr, we cannot let you pass."  The guard that barred her way she knew well.  It was an advantage to her place in the realm's forces she had not thought of before.  She was not Commander, not yet, but they respected her more than they did Cuyler; ever since the war on Nidavelir. 

"Birger, I wish to see my husband."  

"He is not to have any visitors."  Birger was one of the first that had spoken to her, after she took her place among the guard.  She found him to be steadfast and kind, and he was one of those she had chosen to fight with her in Nildavelir. 

"Should any question you, you shall direct them to me.  I will, for once, put my title to use." 

He frowned, regret in his eyes.  "Odin has decreed it." 

"Get _Out_  of my way."  She infused her tone with all the authority she used on the battlefield.   

A true soldier, he instinctively shifted to one side at her tone rather than her words.  Ilmr swept past him.   

It did not take her long to find him, pacing in his barren cell that reminded her so much of the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility that she wondered briefly if they weren't somehow in league with one another.   

"Loki." 

He was so deep in thought he hadn't seen her approach.  His head snapped up.  "Ilmr.  You shouldn't be here."  His face twisted into a look of pure disdain.  "The _Allfather_  has proclaimed that I shall have no visitors." 

"Then let him come here himself and drag me away."  She kept her voice calm, dropping into the low tone that so often seemed to soothe him.   

Loki gave a brief nod. 

“You sent the Destroyer after Thor and your friends.” 

“Yes.”  Loki only hesitated momentarily. 

“You told Thor that Odin was dead and that you could not end his banishment.” 

Another brief pause. “Yes.”

“You were rightfully made King and you did not wish to relinquish the role, for your sake and mine, and you kept me in our chambers so I would be beyond reproach for what you knew you would have to do.” 

“Yes.”  There was no hesitation. 

Ilmr nodded, gracing him with a small smile. “All right.” 

Loki narrowed his eyes as he tried to read her. “What?”  

“If I had been named Commander, I would stop at nothing to keep the position.  I hold no anger for what you have done.”  

He dropped his hands, coming to stand in front of her.  "I have failed again." 

She dropped her voice lower, quieter, standing as close to the barrier as she could. "You are back in Asgard.  I do not count that as failure.  We knew, both of us, that this would be a long end-game.  I do not believe it is over yet.  I will have a trial for you, and you will convince the Allfather of your remorse." 

"I am _not_ \--" 

Ilmr held up her hand.  "--My God of Lies, you will.  And you will become the picture of dutiful atonement.  He is old, Loki.  He is aging far more rapidly than he would wish.  Thor has Jane to think of.  You must become beyond reproach." 

Loki's eyes, though much more like the green she had come to know, were still somewhat bright as the influence of the Tesseract and the scepter wore off.  He smiled wide and wickedly.   

Stepping as close as he could to the barrier, he motioned her closer.  If not for the enchanted glass, she would have felt his breath on her face.  "I chose better in you than I did in a great many other things." 

Ilmr could only nod.   

***** 

Ilmr was reprimanded for her visit to Loki.  Everyday for months on end, she was reprimanded for her visits to him.  Between them, Frigga had furnished his cell as best she could without incurring too much of Odin's wrath, and Ilmr kept him company as often as she could.   

"Do you not understand _why_  he must be left to his solitude?"  Odin sighed. It was the same conversation they had been having over and over. 

"Do you not understand _why_  I keep going regardless?  Allfather, we have walked this road.  Neither of us will budge.  You would leave him to rot until such time as you think he would be just spiteful enough to damn himself at his trial.  I refuse to leave him to descend into madness.  You may have lost hope for him, but I have not.  If you wish him to redeem himself, to have a chance to be himself once more, you cannot bar me from visiting him." 

"There is naught in him now but spite and malice, hate and terrible mischief.  Leave him to his loneliness, Ilmr." 

She cracked her jaw.  "And yet he has claimed all he has done.  To me, to you even.  Will you not claim your fault in this?"  They were not words she had spoken to the Allfather yet.  She had always bitten her tongue on them, as if by not asking, the truth was not there. 

"I have no fault in this!"  He was indignant, judging by his shout. 

"Then you would not be so upset."  She smirked.  "I will never tell him, but he is much like you, at times.  You kept the truth of his birth from him and instead instilled a hate and fear for his people into him and you expect that turning it inward on himself will not damage him.  You act as though by omission, you are innocent."  She shook her head, more at herself for letting the words continue to spill.  "You are a great and wise Allfather, but as a father, you failed your son and now place that burden on him." 

Odin growled at her.  "You speak out of turn, Princess."   

"I usually do." 

"My decree still stands.  He can have no visitors." 

"Then we will speak of this again, I fear.  You may have lost hope and love for him, but I will not abandon him." 

Odin heaved another weary sigh.  "Why, Ilmr? This can only end in increasingly severe punishment in an effort to cease your actions." 

Ilmr gave him a small, amused smile.  For all that he saw, the eye he lost had clearly been his good one.  "Because I love him." 

She did not wait for a reply but instead give Odin a curt bow and saw herself out of the throne room.   

*****  
***** 

Half a year he sat in that cell, with only his mother and his wife for visitors.  Frigga had demanded his cell furnished fit for a Prince.  Ilmr visited nearly every day, sometimes alone, sometimes with Fenrir. 

He was getting big, his pup, his muzzle brushing the top of Ilmr's head; the last time he had seen him, his head did not quite reach her bust.  He was likely to be half again Vidar's size.  Ilmr would come down some days looking particularly weary or holding herself differently.  Those were the days, he knew, she had been punished for her visits.   

She came anyway. 

The guards no longer fought with her; rather they just stepped out of her way.  Loki was loathe to admit it, even to himself, but in the abyss he had found himself missing Ilmr in a way he hadn't when she had commanded the force in Nidavelir on Asgard's behalf.   

And now she visited him heedless of her punishment.  She loved him, he knew.  He had loved her for a long time, he realized, but it was not something he would say, not something he often liked to think on.  For his mother, love was a source of strength.  For Loki, it was a source of vulnerability.   

Ilmr arrived one morning earlier than was her wont, flanked by two guards.  She wore a deep green gown that brushed the floor, intricate gold embroidery along the neckline.   

"Odin has set your trial.  For today."  Her face was stony.   

She had done it.  The pigheadedness of the Allfather was no match for her, it seemed.   

Rising, Loki nodded, waiting by the glass as the guards entered and began to shackle him as he had been when he had arrived back in Asgard: hands cuffed and chained, another around his neck connected to the one on his hands.  They were particularly rough.  "Are you worried I might try to escape and take your lives with me?"  Loki kept his tone light and mocking.  He was further jostled.   

"I will _not_  suffer him to be bound or handled so." 

"You do not have say in this, Princess."  The guards were not ones that she knew well, if she knew them at all.   

"Bind his hands behind his back, and remove his collar.  He is no beast."  Loki watched her grit her teeth.  " _Now_."   

Her tone was one the guards seemed familiar with and acquiesced.  She could bear the wrath of the Allfather, they had likely decided.   

Stopping outside the throne room, Ilmr slipped up beside him and he felt her hand at his elbow.   

"What shall I say?"  He pitched his voice low so only she would hear him.  

A smile curved her lips.  "I think you already know what you will say."  She glanced to him, then.  "But I give you the advice you gave me: be circumspect.  He will bait you.  Play the remorseful part.  You must be in better standing when Thor decides he wishes to remain with Jane." 

"You know he will do this?"  Loki couldn't fathom how she would know such a thing. Had she been spending much time with Thor?  A chill of jealousy raced up his spine. 

"No, but I have heard him speak of her, and I have not seen him pursue one maid since his return from his banishment.  She holds hard to the Thunder God's heart." 

Loki nodded.  He took a deep, shuddering breath before speaking.  "I will try not to fail you again." 

The doors opened shortly thereafter and though Ilmr stepped away from him, she did not go far, moving only to stand next to Frigga when they arrived at the base of the dais.   

"It was brought to my attention on multiple occasions that it was pertinent you receive a trial." Odin passed a hand in front of himself.  "So here we are.  What do you have to say for yourself, or will this be a repetition of your return to Asgard?" 

Loki inclined his head, breathing in and out slowly through his nose, doing his best to school his features against the rising tide of hate.  "I wish to make amends for my deeds." 

"Oh?" Odin's eyebrows rose slightly.  "Far different talk from last time, Loki." 

Loki could not help himself and he graced Odin with a humorless smile.  "You know as well as I do the power of the Tesseract, as does the one who bade me wield it.  Such power and influence does not wane immediately.  After half a year in your lovely dungeons, however, it has dissipated and I can see more clearly.  I was not dissembling when I said I could not recall the events." 

Much to Loki's satisfaction, Odin merely twitched his lips.  He was silent for several minutes and Loki studied him intently.  The lines on his face were deeper, the set of his shoulders implied greater weight than he carried on them before.   

"And how would you make amends for such deeds? For the destruction of a city, the multitude of lost lives, the loss of trust?" 

Loki's blood boiled at that.  He felt the thrum under his skin that kept Ilmr in his figurative sight shift north the slightest bit.  He smiled to himself.  She could not speak, but she knew how to remind him that Odin was baiting him.  This time, it was Loki that let the silence stretch on as he calmed himself.  He could not, would not, fail Ilmr again.   

"There are no grand gestures to be found here, Odin.  I would rather propose a series of small gestures and acts that will help repair the damage I have wrought in paying the debt I owed bargaining for my life."  He continued, though Odin opened his mouth to speak.  "Would that there were an enchantment I could cast to remake myself, but there is not.  Though, there is one I can remove for the purposes of the believability of my …tale, as you call it.  As I believe you've likely called Ilmr's account."  He glanced to Ilmr then, giving her a rueful smile.  "I am sorry, I could not let you truly see." 

He let his enchantment fade and he stood before Odin, before his mother and his wife as he truly was: blue and scarlet eyed and badly, truly damaged.  Haler than he had been, but even after all the time in Asgard still thin, thinner than he had ever been, than Ilmr had ever seen him.  The dark circles under his eyes looked as though they were a permanent stain.  Though it had been half a year, Thanos' torture still marred his skin: what had once been bone-deep lacerations, now only muscle showed through in some places.  His skin itself, though still healing, was twisted and ragged from the endless skinning and rebirth, from horrific burns.   His fingernails were growing back, only half of what they should have been and the skin as yet to be covered was raw.  The Jotun markings on his skin had been of particular interest to Thanos and they had been cut over and over so that they stood out angry and deep blue; no longer markings but scars.   

While Frigga had let out a quiet sound at the sight in despair, he found himself once again surprised.  And angry at himself for such surprise.  Though likely under instruction to remain with his mother, Ilmr had taken one of his hands carefully, covering it with both of hers.  She did not look at him but rather stared at Odin, face unreadable.  Her fingers stroked gently over the scarring on his hand, careful of the skin that seemed to him to be paper-thin.   

Odin merely nodded after much thought.  Had Loki not known better, he would have sworn he saw the Allfather's eyes soften, glisten with the thought of tears, even.  But Loki knew better.   

"And if you are still unable to atone for your deeds?" 

Loki kept his shoulders from slumping any more than a small fraction.  He turned over his free hand, unable to move it further than that, open and empty towards the Allfather.  "You must at least let me try; for once in my life, let me _try_.  And if I should be unable to atone in any way that you deem meaningful, then I bid you, after you have sent me to take up my place in Hel, do not cast Ilmr aside.  If you afford me nothing else should I fail in this, keep her safe."

He could tell, by the quiver in his mother's shoulders that she was fighting herself not to speak.  She lost.  "Nine Realms, Odin, he is your _son._ He--" 

Odin held up a hand, narrowed his eyes at Loki.  "Safe from what?" 

"When I fell, I did not die.  The Titan found me drifting, wishing for a death that would not come.  He tortured me endlessly, for what felt like days at times, at others, eons.  He unraveled every part of me, of my mind, until there was little left of me.  He offered me my life if I would but do him a mighty favor.  I agreed.  I failed to deliver on my end of our bargain.  He will come for me eventually and the torture he afforded me before would seem like a balm comparatively.  He has made it clear he will destroy her in the worst way he knows how, before my eyes.  I will not have her take my punishment and so I bid you: keep her safe." 

Odin let out a short bark of laughter.  It startled Loki, not having expected such a reaction.  "I truly did not believe it."  He had addressed Ilmr.  "Fascinating." 

She raised a patient eyebrow.  "Pardon?" 

He ignored her, straightening and turning back to Loki.  "I cannot commute your sentence, but I can let you _try_ , as you say."  Odin scratched his chin in thought.  "I will allow you two days of each week to be spent outside of your cell -with restrictions- for you to begin making amends.  You will never be alone, and you will always have your abilities reduced while you are free." 

Loki nodded. He had still not yet pulled his Asgardian mask back into place.  Now that he had finally dropped it, he felt much less weary.   

"Allfather, I would make a request of you."  Ilmr sounded circumspect, for once.  

Odin took notice.  "Oh?  And you would ask it with utmost politesse?" 

She ignored the barb.  "I would see him better fed, and a healer attend to him." 

"I do not see--" 

" _Look at him_."   

"Ah, there she is."  Odin smiled.   In the absence of his own cruelty, it seemed to Loki that it found a home in the Allfather.  Out of the corner of his eye, Loki saw Frigga straighten and give her husband a look that, if they could kill, would have had Hel herself coming to call for the Allfather's soul.  Odin sighed.  "Yes, Princess.  I will be sure your _husband_  is well cared for.  Is that all?  It seems like a rather small request." 

"I would request his prison be relocated to our chambers, but I am not so foolish as that." 

"Good." 

"I will continue to see him while he must reside in his cell, however." 

Odin scowled and said nothing.  

It was over.  Loki would not die, not yet at least, and he would be allowed some freedom to atone for his sins and gain some standing back behind his name that could someday count for something.   

It was over.  Loki had not failed her again.  Not this time.  Not yet.

 

 


	16. Chapter 16 - Refusing to Leave One to Madness

**Chapter Sixteen – Refusing Leaving One To Madness**

 

A/N: As of partway through this chapter, we’re officially in AU territory!  This chapter will start from Loki’s perspective and shift to Ilmr’s after the double page break. The next several chapters will likely be difficult for a number of reasons, so I will place a trigger warning now: some of the “lighter” themes are PTSD, panic attacks.  Some of the more serious I will address individually as both trigger warnings and when appropriate, PSAs. Some things in this chapter you may find a bit graphic/gory, description-wise, so please be aware. 

_However_ , I hope you enjoy it nonetheless and I hope, in this and forthcoming chapters, I do justice to the things I’m trying to do.  Lyrics in this chapter are from Billy Idol (aka, my True Love) “Buried Alive”.

  

 

_And it’s coming, the fury and the rage_  
 _Take my vengeance, rain down on you_  
 _There’s no mercy  
_ _From what I’m going to do_

 

 

"Why did you not tell me, not show me?"  Ilmr had seated herself beside him in his cell.   

Each day he was allowed free to atone, she would greet him and take breakfast with him in his cell.  Thus far, Loki’s atonement had seen him assisting in the repair of the Bifrost.   

Loki chewed slowly.  It had been a war within himself, to remain Jotun for so long.  He despised it so and he was sure with each moment that passed Ilmr would turn from him, deciding that she could not bear such a sight, such a creature, as him.   

She did not.  She did not seem bothered, if she was.   

"Because you would have damned yourself and me if you had known." 

"What did you look like, truly, when you first came back to me?" 

He winced, but relented.  She would not have let it go, he knew.  "Thanos did not think I would live, when he let me go.  The lacerations you saw, many of those exposed bone.  What were once my markings bled freely and were infected.  While you were in New Mexico I tended to them as best I could.  Much of my skin only existed as a thin barrier, like the skin over a hard-boiled egg." 

Unlike Odin, in whom Loki knew he had imagined sentiment, he knew that the pained expression Ilmr bore was earnest.   

She seethed. "I will kill him." 

"You will not go near him."   

Though he had spent nearly a month in his Jotun form, in part to terrify the guards while he could do little else in his weakened state, he was still hesitant to touch her, terrified that at any moment he would freeze her.  She still wore his ring, but he was loathe to cause her harm.  As if slow, deliberate movements helped any, he placed his hand over hers.   

He had learned since discovering his heritage that though while Jotun he was decidedly colder, he only froze things when he chose to. Otherwise, it seemed as though his skin was as a cold winter evening, but not harmful.  Not unless he willed it.  It had given him some solace.  As much as being Jotun could comfort one. 

"You would not let him live if he had done the same to me."   

She was right, he knew.  It made his chest constrict as though the muscle were being torn away anew.  It was a sensation he had felt before but had largely ignored.  But now it was different, somehow.  He could not ignore it now.   

"I would not let him live." 

At that, she shifted their hands to be clasped rather than his on top of hers.  "You may think you have failed me, Loki, but you have not."  At that, he snapped his eyes up to see that she had been watching him all the while.  "There have been mistakes, certainly, but no failure.  You have taken strides to ensure I am always protected, whether I deserve it or will it or not.  You have not failed Odin, either, though he might try to make you think so.  It is he who has failed you.  You will atone as necessary and we will be rid of this cell, the Titan, all of this." 

He could not hold her gaze.  It was unfathomable that she should think of him so.  She knew not what she said, surely.  "We may yet be, Ilmr." 

She grazed her fingertips over his palm.  "We will be.  Loki."  She shifted this time to lean down to catch his eyes.  "We will be rid of all of this, or we will tear the realms apart trying.  I will not leave you to this madness." 

The tightness in his chest grew until he thought it might rend him limb from limb as Thanos had done.  She would not leave him, she felt as though he: least-loved, condemned, Frost Giant; was her partner in this, that she was his.  He had suspected as much and acted as though it were true, but he did not truly believe it.   

"Why?"  He didn't realize the word came from his mouth, for a moment. 

She smiled.  "Solveig told me something once when I was very small that I remember even now.  I do not know how true it is, for it's childish, but then much of what she told me that I thought to be childish as I grew I eventually found to be truest of all.  She told me a tale of the beginning of everything.  That before everything was the Ginnungagap, where the fire of Muspelheim and ice of Niflheim met and created the first of the giants, Ymir, from whom other giants were born; and so eventually all of this before us.  When the ice and fire met, she told me, there was great, hissing steam. Drops of water and licks of flame flew across the great empty abyss.  Those drops and licks eventually became other things: soil and cattle and Aesir and mortals.  The meeting in the Ginnungagap was such that these small pieces seek one another out across the great expanse of the Nine Realms and beyond to create another such, albeit smaller, meeting.  When they find their likeness, she told me, they are near impossible to part." 

He smiled slightly, but knew that his tight grip on his hand gave him away.  "That is a telling of the creation of the Nine Realms I have not heard before."   

"Solveig was a nursemaid unlike any other I have seen."  She held his hand as tight as he suspected she dared to.   

A guard appeared outside the glass.  Loki glanced to him before leaning in, letting mischief light his eyes, and kissed Ilmr as slowly and deeply as he could, determined to make the guard uncomfortable for interrupting, however unintentionally.  He waited until he was sure they both needed a proper breath to break it.  "I will see you on the morrow; the Bifrost awaits." 

With that, he rose carefully, ghosting his fingers along her jaw until he could no longer reach her as he took his leave of his cell. 

***** 

Every third day he was allowed outside of his cell.  The rest of the time, he had only the company of his books and Ilmr, while she was able to visit.  His mother he saw at the end of his days of toil. By now, he was hale enough that he spent his days in his Asgardian skin looking far more like himself than he had in more than a year.   

"Jane is here."  Ilmr had taken to seating herself as close to the barrier as she could those days she was not allowed inside.  

Loki raised his eyebrows.  Had another mentioned it, his disinterest would not have been feigned.  Ilmr mentioning it meant it was worth note.  "Oh?" 

She smiled slightly.  "Thor told me Odin called her a goat." 

Loki laughed at that.  Though it was a delighted sound, he saw that most -the guards, even other prisoners- flinch away.  Nothing had changed about him in regard to his talents, but now it seemed to Loki that _finally_ others understood what Ilmr always appeared to him to know:  he was very, very dangerous.  

"That is truly delightful.  Why is she here?" 

"I know not.  Thor had her in the healing room immediately and afterwards she was kept sequestered.  I'm going to try to gain an audience with her once I return from the clearing today.  I do not want to seem overanxious." 

Loki nodded.  The sound of a guard interrupted his next thought.   

Ilmr sighed.  "Morning drilling is about to begin, I must go.  I'll return once I've spoken with Jane today." 

"Please.  I'm rather intrigued by the thought of Thor bringing his Midgardian 'goat' to his father's house unannounced." 

Ilmr flashed him a wicked smile, but said nothing as she retreated down the hall.   

***** 

He was halfway through the most recent book Frigga had brought him when he heard a commotion in another cell.  It held several dark elves; Loki was unsure of how long they must have been there, given the last time anyone had even seen a dark elf.   

A massive creature was in their cell and the elves threw themselves against the barrier to try and escape.  Four of them had done so of their own volition, at least.  The fifth had been smashed against the barrier until the creature had crumbled it.  The creature went about freeing the occupants of many of the other cells.   

It stopped in front of Loki and stared at him; Loki moved to stand in front of it, peering at it.  It was certainly a sight:  six horns and two tusks adorned it' head, as well as a variety of horns partway down it's arms.  It looked to be made of stone, though it moved as though it were skin.  Its armor appeared a part of it's skin rather than separate from it. 

Where it had not hesitated to free the others, it took the time to size Loki up.  It did not fear the other prisoners it had freed, all but ignoring the chaos they created behind it.  But Loki it watched, Loki it did fear.  

As well it should have, he did not travel to all ends of the universe and survive the Titan without becoming quite a bit more fearsome than the disgusting creature in front of him, though he looked fairer than it. 

The creature stepped away first, clearly having finally realized that should it free Loki, it would be it’s last act. 

Ilmr was in the clearing by now, he knew.  It was too late in the day for her to still be in the palace.   

"You might want to take the stairs to the left."   

Turning towards him again, the creature gave him a considered look, and took his advice.  Settling back to his book, Loki smiled inwardly.  Let the mighty Allfather and his favored son handle such a creature.   

***** 

It had taken hours, but the dungeons were eventually returned to order.  He suspected he would not see Ilmr until morning, given the excitement, and Loki had accepted that the rest of the day and evening would be spent without a visitor, save for the guard who brought his meal.   

A guard appeared in front of his cell.  He had no meal with him.   

It was wrong.  It had to be wrong.  He was lying to the God of Lies and was so skilled at it, Loki could not see the deception.  Ilmr had to have been in their clearing with Fenrir and Vidar.  It was too late in the day for her to have been anywhere else.  Frigga.  His mother.  His mother would have been safe, her guards would not have abandoned her.   

With a sharp exhale he stood at his full height and strained himself to a painfully straight position. And sent his sorcery through every item in his cell, the sound of exploding glass and splintering wood soothing something inside of him, even if only momentarily.   

Frigga.  His mother, his mother was dead.  That creature - it was one the dark elves called Kurse.  He had not recognized it immediately, too busy trying to will it to release him.  It had killed his mother.  Ilmr had been with her.  The ring she promised never to remove was useless against such a creature.  She lay in the healing rooms.   

Eir had told the guard that she was unsure if Ilmr would survive.  One of the short blades it carried, the guard said, had been shoved deep into her side and snapped off at the hilt.  Even with the aid of all of Eir's skill, still she writhed, could not break her fever, the blade could not be removed.  The bleeding did not staunch. 

He paced.  Feral, predatory, _hungry;_  he paced.   

Imperviousness to its enemies' weapons be damned; Loki would kill that _monster_  in the most vicious way he could imagine.  In the ways Thanos had done to him time and time again.  The silent, nightmare creature would beg, would _howl_  for mercy before Loki would consider killing him faster; the only mercy Loki would allow such a thing.   

Loki did not know how long he paced, did not know when he had slid down to sit against the wall of his cell.  At the sound of approaching footsteps, Loki conjured a mask: a perfectly ordered room, himself with hair slicked back perfectly and clothes unruffled.   

Thor.  For once, he saw through the illusion and at that, Loki dropped it, let the Thunder Clod see him as he was: hair and clothing disheveled; glass in his foot, he thought; his cell looking as though the earlier battle had taken place within it.   

Thor had many words that made Loki think he had not entirely shed his old self, despite evidence and act to the contrary.  He also used all the right words, Thor did, and Loki was only too happy to agree to assist him.   

"I have a condition." 

Thor shifted his weight from one foot to the other.  "Give it a name, and I will decide whether it be worthy." 

"I will not go to Svartalfheim until I have seen and treated her myself."  He could not say her name, not yet.   

"It is too risky." 

"I will not help you unless you do this and without me, you will not succeed.  Will not even get out of Asgard." 

Thor growled and tore his gaze away.  "Why must you try my patience at every turn, brother?" 

"You have no patience, just as you have no brother; I try nothing.  I will not travel to another realm, uncertain of our success, until I am sure she is safe.  Given that Eir and her healers cannot do the job properly, I will see to her myself."  He could see Thor battling himself.  "If we wait too long, we may as well not bother at all." 

Another frustrated sound, and Thor reluctantly agreed to his term.   

***** 

Sif had made sure the healing room was empty before Loki slipped in.   

An entirely different sort of rage coursed through his veins, rushed around his heart and constricted his lungs.  Ilmr had only ever seemed exhausted -never pained- but once.  To see her as she was now was not only entirely alien but it produced within him, along with the rage, an altogether uncomfortable sense of heartache and sadness.  He was unlikely to gain the throne of Asgard, and he realized then that though her necessity to him in that capacity had run it's course, she was necessary to him regardless.   

Many smaller lacerations, bruises and cuts were slowly healing, thanks both to Eir and his ring on her finger.  She sweat profusely, her face frozen in a grimace, her breath coming in ragged, harsh sounds as her chest rose and fell without rhythm.   

As he sat carefully on the side of her bed, Loki noticed for the first time a pile of towels on the other side of her bed soaked in blood.  She had not stopped bleeding.  Not since the day before, he had estimated, when it happened.  They had not managed to remove the blade.  He had known it, had been told as much, but seeing it was altogether different.  He saw red, glaring up at Thor.   

" _What_  is that still doing in her?  It _will_  kill her and should have already been removed." 

A pained expression crossed Thor's face.  "I asked, brother.  It appears as though it has pierced at least one of her organs.  If removed, Eir tells me she will perish in a matter of minutes." 

"The iron is killing her slowly anyway."  He glanced over the wound, finally pulling up her soul map himself.  He had never studied healing in the way Eir and her apprentices had, but he had an acuity in the area nonetheless.  It seemed to Loki that anything requiring much extrasensory skill he excelled in practicing.   

The blade did indeed pierce her stomach, intestines, and grazed a kidney, given the angle of the thing.  While she was bleeding an excessive amount, it would have been worse and indeed life-ending to remove the blade.  He closed his eyes and placed a cool hand on her forehead.   

He had never been glad of his heritage until that moment, hearing the quiet sound of her momentary relief at the temperature difference.  The guard had used the correct word - she felt as though her skin were on fire, as though he would see burn marks on his hand if he removed it.  He kept his hand still. 

"This will hurt, Ilmr, but I swear to you it will not last long."   

Thor heard him, though he had spoken quietly.  "What do you mean to do, brother?"  He shifted on his feet as if he would snatch Loki away any moment.   

"Get me a towel.  Two, actually.  I will also need you to hold her still."  He made a face as he looked her over again.  "This will not be pleasant." 

"What do you mean to do?"  Thor had not moved.   

With an exasperated sigh, Loki granted Thor a glance.  "I'm going to save her.  Get me two towels, quickly, and then hold her down; she will struggle."   

Sif stepped into his peripheral vision, towels in hand.  "I will hold to her arms.  Thor, hold her legs."   

On two separate occasions now, Loki had found himself grateful for Sif's presence in Ilmr's life.   

Taking the towels, he unraveled one and placed the other beside him.  His free hand he placed on her stomach over the wound and his other over her mouth, effectively stifling the sounds she would make at even the slightest pressure and the louder sounds and screams that would likely follow.   

"Hold onto her."   

He pressed the hand on her stomach lightly once he felt the heat in his hand seep into her skin.  She strained against Sif and Thor but they held her fast.  She screamed against his hand and were it not for the sake of her life, he would have stopped then.  He sensed the blade moving slowly, her muscle and tissue and organs stitching in its wake.   

It was nearly half an hour later, when he knew the blade had passed out of all of her organs, that he held harder around her mouth and wrenched the blade from her side, immediately holding one of the towels to the hole left behind to keep her from bleeding out as he concentrated further on willing her to heal faster.   

Another quarter hour, or perhaps eternities, later and he removed both the towel and his hand.  Thor and Sif relaxed their hold.  Ilmr's head fell back onto her pillow, breath hitching and shuddering.  Tears slid from her eyes, though he was unsure how she had held off until that moment.  Thor and Sif remained, looking exhausted.  Even in her weakened state, Ilmr had been a force to reckon with.   

"Leave us."  The strained sound did not sound like him, but of course Loki knew it had been.   

Not having heard him speak in such a way before, they listened.   

Leaning forward to have an elbow on either side of her head, he let his Asgardian disguise fall away and allowed his much colder Jotun skin to soothe her.  In response, she made a strangled sound, both pained and relieved, that was reminiscent of his name.   

"You are safe now, love.  I leave to exact payment from the monster that laid such waste to you."  He could not mention his mother, not yet.  "I expect to find you convalescing in our chambers when I return."   

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he took his leave of her after whispering a quiet incantation to make her sleep.   

Sif glanced into the halls and motioned he and Thor forward when none were present.  She halted Loki before he got too far out of the room, letting Thor walk ahead, oblivious.   

"Love?" 

"What?"  He was grateful for her help, but did not regret his curt tone.  She was wasting time and he wasn't sure what she had meant.   

She dropped her voice. "What you just called her."  He hadn't realized that he had done so, but she was right.  Sif narrowed her eyes at him.  "You are earnest in your feelings for her, at least."  She gave him a weary, wary smile.  "I will look after her until you return.  Do not make me regret trusting you." 

He gave her a grin.  "You should never trust me, Sif.  She will be well upon my return or I will hold you responsible."

With that, he hastened to catch Thor. 

*****  
***** 

When she awoke several days later from the nightmare that had begun when the creature plunged a blade deep into her, the thrum under her skin was gone and Loki was dead.   

All of her training had been for naught.  Frigga had died.  As soon as the blade had pierced her side, Ilmr had felt her eyes roll back in her head.  She had not even had the strength to remain conscious.   

Loki was dead.   

Sif had told her, returning with a meal and an ashen look upon her face seeing Ilmr awake.  Though she had not been in a ward in such a state in centuries, Ilmr knew that Sif's reaction was not the appropriate one.   

She was right.  All of her practice keeping her features carefully schooled was useless, and she leaned into Sif unbidden, hiding her face in the other woman's neck and crying unabashedly in front of another for the first time in nearly a millennia.  Sif, though likely vastly uncomfortable, had done her best to comfort her grieving friend.  She said nothing, for which Ilmr was grateful, only smoothing her tangled and disheveled hair and letting Ilmr take the time she needed.  

She had needed a long time.  Loki was dead.   

Ilmr had known before -had accepted, by then- that she bore him no small amount of love, but until that moment she did not realize how much it had truly been.  She had missed him and grieved for him when he fell into the abyss, had been willing to destroy Thanos, yes, but that was because the Titan would have sought to destroy them and so the things they had wanted for themselves first, and because she loved him second.  Now, she was not so sure.  She thought it might have been merely love alone all along.   

It did not matter, now.  Loki was dead. 

He had saved Thor's life, and that of Jane.  By giving his life for theirs, he allowed the Nine Realms to be saved.  Odin had declared him pardoned, apparently.  If things had been different, she would have felt a great wave of relief at the Allfather's decree.  She did not.   

Loki was dead. 

***** 

Three days later, Ilmr was released from the healing rooms and allowed back into her own chambers.  She was both glad to have left and loathe to return to her own space.  The last time she had been there, Loki was still alive.  The last time they had shared them was before the first time she had thought him dead.   

She stopped in her tracks en route to her chambers.   

Had _thought_  him dead.  Thor and she and Odin and many others, had seen him fall into the abyss, and yet he had lived.  Thor had seen him perish again this time.  Just Thor and Jane.  It was an illusion he could have easily managed.   

But the thrum was gone.  She could not account for that.   

Ilmr thought then of Thanos, of the months she had gone without the steady feeling rushing alongside her veins.  Loki had still lived, though it was thanks only to the Titan.   

The Titan.  What little she knew of him painted her a picture of an exacting, obsessed being made entirely of hatred and nihilism.   

Loki was likely _not_  dead, she decided.  There were only two options.  In the first, he feigned his death to escape the Titan and would reveal himself to her when prudent.   

In the second, entirely terrifying option, he had died, but would not remain so for long.  Though the Titan had called him a pawn, she did not believe the words.  Loki was too valuable, even as a pawn, to be allowed to die so easily.  Thanos would revive him if he had in fact died.   

If that were the case, she would know, and she would follow the thrum until she found him and allow Thanos the pleasure of death he had gifted so many others.   

***** 

A missive from Odin awaited her in her chambers, when she arrived there that evening from the healing rooms, requesting her presence the following morning in the throne room.  There was apparently an urgent matter of which he wished to speak to her.  Before the breakfast hour.   

It was unusual, but given the events of the week previous, she could not deny that the Allfather likely felt unusual.  Turning in early, she spent much time attempting to fall asleep, the notion that Loki lived gnawing at her and keeping her from sleeping.   

She was finally on the cusp of slumber when she felt the bed sink with familiar weight.  She remained still though everything in her screamed for her to turn.  She still could not feel the thrum.  Finally, she shifted to see. 

Loki lay beside her.   

Except it wasn't Loki.  It looked like Loki, but the eyes were too bright.  The smile was entirely manic.  But more than that, it was sloped into a grimacing grin.  She found herself frozen in place when she went to flee.  Vidar and Fenrir she could see out of the corner of her eyes and they too were motionless despite the wild, terrified look in both of their eyes.   

A hand came down over her mouth and the weight and strength of it was decidedly not Loki.   

"I don't think he's dead, either."  The sound of the voice that came from the mouth that looked like Loki's made her shudder inwardly. 

Thanos.  Apparently, the look on her face when she turned told him everything he needed to know.   

Though she knew she was unable to move, still she struggled.  She had been right that Loki yet lived.  Loki had been right that Thanos would use her against him.  That was the only trip-up in their plan.  They had gotten attached to one another.  Had fallen in love with one another, even.  And now it would undo them both.   

"Let us leave him a message, shall we?" Taking one of her wrists in a grip so tight she felt the bones grind together, he dug his nails into the skin so hard blood seeped around his rotting nails.   

She felt the thrum jump to life under her skin.   

"That should do it.  Let's see if he comes out of hiding.  That _husband_  of yours, that _snake_  will show himself now."   

In the blink of an eye, Ilmr was not in her chambers.  Not even in Asgard.  She was on a lifeless, barren rock somewhere out in the universe that she assumed was nowhere within the Nine Realms.  She was thankful that Fenrir and Vidar had not been brought with her.   

"He will not come."  She had been a decent liar before she met Loki, the politics she was party to had required it.  But since meeting Loki, she had become far, far better. 

"Oh no?"  There was that grimacing grin again.  "I thought you had told me he would not serve me, if harm came to you."  He approached her and loomed over her.  The scent of rotting flesh and a sense of dread rolled off him.  She kept her ground.  " _I_  think the Lie Smith will come.  You see, I did not just rend flesh and muscle from bone, I rent hismind to shreds and rebuilt it again and again.  His downfall will be you, just as yours has been him."  Thanos pulled a mocking pout that looked more terrifying than anything.  "If only you had managed _not_  to let sentiment get in the way." 

He would torture her anyway, she knew.  "Interesting thought, considering you do all that you do for Death herself." 

A backhand threw her to the ground several feet away.  Those rotted nails had cut her cheek open and the uneven, rocky ground had embedded itself in her back when she hit the ground and slid, her green nightshift providing little in the way of protection.  She bit her cheek to bleeding to keep from making a sound.   

"Until he finds you, I will grace you with the same treatment he received.  And when he arrives, _if_  he arrives, I will grant you the death you will have been begging for before his eyes." 

Ilmr stood and said nothing; ignoring the blood dripping down her back and her cheek. 

With the wicked, grimacing grin plastered on his face, Thanos approached her again.  She did not budge.  Running would be of no use and she found herself frozen in place by his will again anyway.   

If Loki lived, and she suspected by now that he did, she would face all the torture of the Titan until he found them, at which time she would die.  If he did not live, the torture would continue indefinitely until she willed herself to die.  Either way, she did not like the odds.  She had no way to even separate the gauntlet from his hand to have the slightest chance of besting Thanos.   

His hand was at her throat, lifting her off her feet, crushing her windpipe.  Ilmr struggled to breathe and though she struggled to lift a hand and attempt to pry his away from her, he had her frozen still.  He likely would until Loki arrived.  She would struggle regardless of whether her attempts remained futile.   

She felt something painfully give way and breathing became more difficult.  Stars had begun to dance in her vision and just before she lost consciousness, she felt her body drop to the ground like a doll tossed aside by a child.  She was not there long.  Lifted again without the aid of his hands, she felt herself in midair.  

And then she heard a sound unlike any she had ever heard any creature make before.  Ilmr realized after several long, excruciating moments, that the sound was her.  And that her skin was being slowly peeled away. 

Thanos' voice rang in her head and her first instinct was to try to run from it, though she knew somewhere in her mind that it was impossible.   

_I have been watching a long time, now.  Eons, to see how all of this would play out. I was delighted to see Odin take in Laufey's rejected infant,_ Lie _to it for a millennia.  I hadn't thought that you would come along, but Oh! how you have helped my cause.  Without you, he would have been much, much more difficult to break.  But because of you he had some semblance of emotion and it_ ruined _him, his chance of surviving this._

_He knows it.  He will come and he will see you die and he will_ break _.  He may have been a pawn but you have been less than that your whole life, have you not?  Least-loved and cast out.  You pretend it was by your own hand that you were exiled but it is a clever cover only.  That he loved you at all is a miracle, useless, broken creature that you are._

_When he finds you here, you will be a shell of yourself, torn asunder again and again, your mind utterly destroyed.  Death will be a mercy._

_Your death will break him and he will bring about the Ragnarok.  The blood of all the worlds in all the universe will be on his hands because of you.  Because_ you _could not accept your place.  You have been the downfall of him and so, the downfall of all._

No.  No, not true.  It couldn't be.  They had promised themselves they would not allow their sentiment to interfere.  It could not.  It would not trip them up.  He knew well enough to stay away, to let her bargain for her freedom as he had done.  He knew, he knew.  She knew he knew.   

He had to know.   

No, no.  It couldn't be true.  None of what Thanos said could be true. 

*****

_{Six months later}_  

It had been long.  Long, long time.  She didn't know how long.  Days, weeks, months, _ages_.  Long time.  Her entire existence had occurred in this place.  She had vague memories of places before: of sunlight and green and soft fur and crisp summer wine.   

But they could not have been memories, just imaginings.  She had not existed anywhere else before this.  This place where her skin was slowly peeled away, day after day.  Where she felt her muscle flayed from bone as she had done -had imagined doing- to animals in the wild when hunting.  Her thoughts had been jumbled as a deck of cards.  She thought.  She was fairly sure.  Things in her mind were not where she had left them.  Black fur preceded green, but that could not have been right.  Summer wine was everywhere, before even the tawny fur that gave her moments of comfort, but that was not right either.  The sadness the thought of the wine and green brought was unbearable.  The betrayal she felt at something, at some _one_  was ever-present, but she did not know why.   

She had lost her voice so long ago she did not remember what it sounded like and she wondered briefly if she had ever had one.  Had ever used it before.  She had the memory of a high, keening sound that she thought may have been her at one time, but without ever having had a voice, it couldn't have been.  She had the sense that she was once strong and sure, calm and confident.  How that could be, she did not know.  She did not even know her own name, how could it be so?   

All she knew were flashes and snatches of imagined memories and the sound of her body breaking again and again, the sound of a vicious, emotionless voice pouring lies and truths into her head so that she no longer knew which was which, and a grimacing grin that made her shudder violently where she lay.   

Lay?  Perhaps sat.  Or stood.  No, no, nothing underfoot.  Nothing touching her.  She would know.  She would feel the immense pain of it, she knew.  She was floating, somehow.  Her eyes were open, she knew, but she could not see.  Could not make sense of anything before her.   

Something raw and red was before her eyes and she could not tell what it was.  She assumed it was a body, though she did not know why.  She did not ever remember seeing one before, or having one herself.  But she had to have had one, if she could feel her skin and muscle being rent from her bones.  Perhaps what lay before her was her body, blood-drenched and a strange mass of bumps from where broken bones strained against paper-thin skin.   

This must have been what he endured.  He who?  She did not know.  All she knew was that he had endured something similar and had survived.  She did not think she would.  She would not ask for death, she would let him down.    

Maybe?  Maybe she would let him down, if she asked for death.  Maybe he would be glad of it, to be rid of her.  She was nothing, having only ever existed in this place, loveless and broken.  She did not even know who he was, so it was likely he would not care either way, whether she asked for death or carried on in this existence.  

 


	17. Chapter Seventeen - Aramguul

**Chapter Seventeen – Aramguul**

 

A/N:  This is one of the few chapters remaining in this portion of the story that won’t need some sort of warning ahead of it.  This chapter is entirely from Loki’s perspective.  The next time we’ll see Ilmr…well.  Things will be a bit different, let’s just say.  The lyrics in this chapter are from Placebo's "Infra-Red". 

 

 

_I'm coming up on infra-red, forget your running_  
 _I will find you_  
 _One more thing before we start the final face-off  
_ _I will be the one to watch you fall_

 

He had played Allfather for nearly a week.  He checked in on Ilmr from time to time under the guise of concern for his second-son's widow.  It was difficult to remember who he was supposed to be.  Sif looked after her well and it gave him some relief.   

He did not know if he could ever reveal himself to her. Whether he would have to play Odin for the remainder of his life and watch her move on from a distance, or if he could somehow reveal himself and have her.  Loki did not think the latter would go over well with Ilmr.   

And then he had felt the thrum he had suppressed jump unbidden to life in the middle of the night.   

Ilmr.  

He was moments too late; Vidar and Fenrir’s muscles relaxed from the stiff, immobile state they had been in.  Ilmr's bed was empty.   

Thanos.  Thanos had taken her to draw him out.  He had known Loki was not dead, despite his best attempts at the deception.   

And now Ilmr would pay the price.   

He did not know how to get to her: though he knew where she was he did not know where Thanos’ home lay exactly.  He was unsure whether his skill would be able to bring him to her.  He had to try, at least.   

Summoning Heimdall as he stormed from her chambers, the hounds at his heels, he made the urgency known to the Gatekeeper that Thor was to return immediately to Asgard.  He let Heimdall know he was to tell Thor that could bring his goat, if he was so inclined. 

He had his Odin-act to uphold after all, and while he didn't dislike Jane Foster, he wasn't partial to her, either.  And the jab would anger Thor.   

***** 

"What is the meaning of this?"  Thor's voice boomed as he entered the throne room.  He had wasted no time, at least; Loki had summoned him not an hour previous.  Jane trailed behind him, not bothering to try to match his strides so coming up behind him several moments after Thor stopped in front of the dais.   

"I have need of your service."  He sat straight and tall in Odin's image, taking pleasure in the fury etched on Thor's face at his words.  

"You _said_  I was free to enjoy life on Midgard with Jane, free of my former duties to Asgard." 

Loki did not have time for this.  "The Mad Titan has taken your brother's widow." 

That did give Thor pause.  He had a particular fondness for Ilmr given how well she had played her part.  "Where would you have me go?" 

" _You_  will not go anywhere.  You will remain here and rule in my stead.  I will seek out the Titan." 

"You are old."  Thor ground the words out.   

" _You are not fit to face this foe_."  Loki hurled the words in Odin's voice.  "The Titan is beyond you.  Were you to face him, he would kill you and Asgard would have no heir.  I will seek him out.  I may be _old_ " Odin-Loki gave a rueful grin.  "But I am far more capable that you.  And Asgard will have ruler in place should the worst happen."  He cast a glance to Jane.  "The goat may remain as your consort.  I care not." 

Thor narrowed his eyes at his feigned-father.  "I too am fond of the Lady Ilmr, but I did not know you were so concerned for her." 

Loki, for all his cunning, had forgotten himself, and cursed inwardly.  He could not trip up; it would cost him -and Ilmr- precious time.  "Would you prefer I let the Titan destroy her as well?  Once he has finished with her, he will come for Asgard."  Loki rubbed the bridge of his Odin-nose.  "I believe that the Mad Titan thinks your brother is still alive and means to draw him out.  If he kills her, where do you think he will turn his eye next?" 

"Loki is dead, father.  I saw him perish before my eyes." 

"He is the _Mad_  Titan, my son.  Whether your brother lives or not does not matter.  Thanos has it in his mind that he lives.  Even if he does not, the end result is the same: utter death and destruction.  I would rather face him where he hides now than bring this fight to Asgard.  I will not risk my people." 

Though Thor began speaking again, Loki struck Gungnir against the dias, silencing him.   

"This conversation is over.  Find your way to your chambers.  I will return to Asgard as soon as I am able, if I am able." 

Loki watched Thor clench his jaw and turn to storm out of the throne room, Jane glancing between her suitor and the image of his father as she followed.   

Loki needed to concentrate.  He could feel the thrum under his skin, but what was more, it was beginning to hurt.  He knew which direction he would need to head, for the most part, but it would take time to locate her exactly.   

Time he was not sure she had.   

***** 

She had been right; apparently, great pain transferred through the enchantment he had placed upon them.  It clouded his ability to find her.  The agony she must have been enduring likely had her near death; it was excruciating for him, making his bones ache at the memory of his torture at the Titan’s hands.   

Thanos had kept his promise: he did not let her die each day, as he had Loki.  He kept her alive and Loki was forced to push through the residual pain -though great- as he sought her out.   

It took months.  He had always been able to keep track of time fairly accurately, save for when he was in Thanos' grasp, and he estimated that by now, it had been nearly six months.  Maybe a little more. 

The closer he got to her, the stronger the pull and the thrum became.   

He was terrified of what he would find, when he reached her.  How much of her would be left, if any part of her would be recognizable: physically, mentally. 

When he had fallen into the abyss, he did not think he would live.  He let go a-purpose. He had been least-loved before, to use Ilmr’s wording, but to have those that had loved him least discover his heritage would have had him outright hated.  He was not sure he could have borne both that and the stripping of his new title. Was not sure he could bear Ilmr’s guilt by association.  And so he had let go. 

He had seen much, as he fell endlessly with nothing to slow him down, with no sleep or sustenance, and yet he did not die. He vaguely remembered some of the worlds that he had passed in his fall and he had decided to travel by that faint recollection in hopes of bringing himself closer to her. 

Thus far, it had worked.  He had passed several worlds similar to Midgard in various stages of advancement. 

He had passed a world that seemed overrun with creatures resembling the Cailean, if they had been made of scale and huge, venomous fangs instead of fur.  Another had been devoid of all but creatures that seemed like huge, aquatic bilgesnipe. 

He traveled far, after that, the pull –and the pain- increasing as he went.  The next world he found seemed to Loki what he would find if Vanaheim and Asgard had melded during the Convergence.  He needed rest and sustenance and thus far, it looked to be the most hospitiable of all the worlds he touched down on in his journey.  He would stay for one evening only, he decided, to regain his strength. 

It was green and fairly quiet, the sound of animals subdued, whether because they sensed his presence or because there were few of them, he was unsure.  

He had arrived on the realm on the edge of a massive forest, larger than he had seen before in any of his travels. Far in the distance, he saw a city made out of silver instead of the gold that was so abundant in Asgard. Buildings were huge and tiered, glinting in the setting suns. 

The closer he got, the more he could see that the city sprawled nearly as large as the forest.  It seemed as though an entire country was encompassed in the city. 

A handful of leagues outside the city, Loki came upon a small village.  Comparatively small. While much here was wooden and far lower to the ground than the structures in the city, each building was still fair brimming with the silver the city was built from. The glass in each window seemed iridescent.  

“Why are you here?”  A voice from behind Loki came inquisitive and sharp, it sounded as it would if rock trolls had developed language.  And rather low to the ground.  

He turned slowly, weapon at the ready concealed in one hand, the other hand held up in a peaceful gesture.  “I seek one that I have lost.” 

When he had turned fully, Loki found himself faced with a creature no higher than his waist and faintly green in color, skin texture appearing to be somewhere between his and that of a serpent.  It was barefoot, four toes on each foot and hands with a similar number of digits, though sporting short, sharp talons.  The little hair he had was in a tuft atop his round, broad head. 

The creature regarded him for several moments, blinking at him in confusion with his silvery, beady eyes.  “You lost it here?” 

“No.  I don’t know where she was taken, but I know I journey closer to her with each realm I pass.” 

The creature’s ears, reminiscent of the Cailean’s albeit much smaller, twitched at one of his words.  

“Realm?”  His lips were tugged to one side.  “Who are you?” 

“Where am I?” 

“I asked you first, visitor.  This will go far better for you if you cooperate.” 

The creature seemed utterly sure of himself and such confidence Loki tended to trust.  There were few creatures in any realm that were unable to sense the ferocity of him and they were often hasty to acquiesce to his wishes.  This creature had no regard for him or his wishes and seemed unconcerned by his presence. 

“I am Loki, of Asgard.” 

“It is not a place I have heard tell of, before. You find yourself, Loki of Asgard, on Aramguul.” 

It was not a place he had ever heard of before. “And you are?” 

“Tdenas.”  Tdenas regarded Loki again for several moments as if deciding what to do with him. “I will bring you to Gbaten. If anyone knows where the thing you seek is, he will.  At least, he will know where to start.” 

The creature toddled forward, swaying easily from one stocky, short leg to the other, his rotund body moving back and forth as he went. As he passed Loki to lead him on, a thick, short tail no more than a foot long came into view. 

“And what do you call yourself, Tdenas? What do other inhabitants of your world identify you as?”  If this creature was unafraid of him, Loki felt politesse was the best course of action, until he knew whether Tdenas’ lack of fear was appropriate. He could not afford to be waylaid. 

The creature turned his head to regard Loki as they walked. “Trillets.” 

“Ah.”  It was not a name Loki had ever heard or read before, either. 

“You are not familiar with our kind?” 

“No.” 

“What are you?” 

Loki sighed.  “A number of things, some of which I claim, and none of which I claim, depending upon the day.” 

“And those things are?” 

“Asgardian, Aesir, and Frost Giant. Frost Giant by birth, Asgardian and Aesir by raising and the doing of Odin Allfather, respectively.” 

“Why do you only claim some of these things, and not all?” 

“I was raised Asgaridan, Aesir, taught that Frost Giants were naught but nightmare fodder, my true parentage hidden from me. When I discovered the truth, I felt betrayed by those that had raised me.  Claiming any of these things as a part of me is difficult.”

The Trillet nodded, though cast a confused look Loki’s way. “That seems silly.” 

Loki grit his teeth, but played along. “Does it?” 

“Whether you claim them or not, that is what you are. I could deny my heritage, my Trillet-ness, but I would be no less what I am for it.  It seems a waste of time.”  He turned down a beaten path, cobblestones visible under the thin layer of dirt and dust.  Aside from the forest and great city, the landscape seemed to be naught but plains covered in tall grass that came up to the Trillet’s waist.  “What did you lose?” 

“My wife.” 

“She ran from you when you found out you were really one of these abhorrent giants?” 

“No.  She was one of the few who stood by me.  Who I trusted. She was taken from me.” 

Stopping in front of a low, wooden and silver home, Tdenas knocked twice in a short but complicated pattern. The door swung in and Loki followed the Trillet in, ducking so as to keep his head from brushing the ceiling. 

“By who?” 

“A creature called Thanos.  Most know him as only the Mad Titan.”

A small, nearly unnoticeable shiver raked Tdenas’ frame. 

“Leave us, Tdenas.”  A voice resembling stone and creased with age came from one corner by a blazing fireplace.  

“But Gbaten—“ 

“—Now.” 

With a sigh, Tdenas turned to go, giving Loki a small smile.  “I wish you well, Loki of Asgard, should I not see you again.” 

Loki nodded and turned away once the younger Trillet had closed the door behind himself.  

“Sit.” Gbaten had not turned from the fire yet. 

Casting around, Loki found himself carefully sitting on the stone floor of the small house when no chair large enough presented itself.  

“You seek the Mad Titan, do you boy?” 

“He has taken and is torturing my wife.” 

“She is gone, then.” 

“He tortured me, once.  I bargained for my freedom at a high price.  A price I could not pay.  She now acts as recompense for my failure.” 

“Why are you here?”  The old Trillet had finally turned from the fire to regard Loki. 

“In truth, I needed a place to stop and rest, even only briefly, in my travels to her.  I know not where she is, only that I get closer to her as I journey the cosmos in this direction.”  He made a motion with his had towards the east.  

Gbaten graced Loki with a rueful smile. “And just what do you think you with do when you find the Titan?” 

“I will take her back.” 

“He will not let you.” 

“Then I will kill him.” 

The Trillet laughed.  It was a grating, gravel sound.  “You will be killed.  The Titan does not suffer such foolishness.” 

“Of all the places I have traveled in my life, I am one of the more skilled sorcerers I have met.  Even one they call Kurse refused to free me from my prison for fear that I would best him.” 

Gbaten raised his eyebrows.  “Kurse?  You know of the Dark Elves, do you?” 

“You do?  I got the impression that your people were unfamiliar with those of the Nine Realms.” 

Gbaten waved Loki away.  “Tdenas does not know much of the universe. He is young, yet.” 

“How young?”  The Trillet had not looked especially youthful. 

“Five centuries, perhaps.  A mere babe.” 

“And how old are you?” 

“If you are of Asgard, you know of –or perhaps are- Aesir, and you know the uselessness of age, after a time.  If I were to estimate, I would imagine somewhere around seven or eight thousand years.” 

Loki blinked.  He had never known a being so old, save for perhaps the Titan himself. 

Gbaten smiled at Loki’s reaction. “I know.  Even Aesir do not live so long.  We are unusually long-lived, as a people.”

 Loki nodded.  “The only one aside from yourself and perhaps the Titan I know of that is anywhere near your age would be Odin himself.” 

“Oh?  And how old do you imagine the Allfather to be?”  

Gbaten knew of Odin, the Aesir, and Asgard. “How do you know so much of the Nine Realms?” 

“I traveled much, in my younger years. Heard many tales and saw many peoples. Odin’s were one of them.” 

Loki furrowed his brow.  “I have never heard of Trillets before.  Of you.” 

The elderly creature narrowed his eyes. “You are one of his children.” 

“No.”  It sounded too bitter, even to Loki’s ear.  

Gbaten laughed again.  “So you are.” 

“By raising only.  By birth, I am Frost Giant.” 

“Bah.  Raising is as good as heritage.”  Easing himself to standing, Gbaten motioned to his cupboard as he went. “So you journey to slay the Titan and retrieve your wife, Odinson.  Have you a thought as to how you will accomplish this unlikely feat?” 

“Ilmr mentioned the gauntlet he wears. That it is the source of most of his power.  If I could but relieve him of it, I would have a better chance.” 

“And what do you suppose you will do this with?” 

Gbaten was fixing a simple, hearty meal: placing cubes of meat and cuts of vegetables Loki could not name into a pot and placing it over the fire. He stirred occasionally, adding herbs of some sort and a small amount of something from a stoppered bottle that immediately made the whole house smell at once spicy and rich. He left the pot only to procure a crusty bread from a different cupboard before returning to the fire to stir the pot further. 

“I know not.  I have several knives and a blade, but I hold no illusion that they will be enough.  I must hope several blows will produce the result necessary.” 

The Trillet nodded, again watching his fire. He did not speak again until he was pouring the thick, delicious-smelling stew into two deep bowls. 

Loki accepted the bowl and a hunk of bread Gbaten had torn from the loaf.  “What is it?” 

“Stew.  The meat would be closest to what you know as cattle, though more flavorful. We call them Moltaks.” 

Loki stirred the concoction.  

“You likely need sustenance, if you have traveled from Asgard, and you are unlikely to find another hospitable world on your journey. This will fill you, give you strength, and keep you full until such time as you are able to take a meal again.” 

Loki furrowed his brow.  “How?” 

“You are not the only magic-maker here. Tdenas brought you here because I am wisest, eldest, and skilled in many arts.  He is young, but he is sensible.” 

Nodding, Loki took a mouthful and could not help keep a small sound from escaping him.  The stew was exquisite.  “Forgive me, Gbaten, but all your questions make me think you have a solution to my quandary.” 

The Trillet smiled with no small amount of mischief. Loki’s regard for him increased. “I may.  What we will seek we will leave in the morning to retrieve.” 

Loki wanted to protest the time it would take from him, but thus far, he had nothing better than the blades he knew would not suffice and if this elderly creature thought he had a weapon of use, Loki decided he could spare several extra hours.  The sleep would not go amiss, either.  

“What is it?”  

“It is a metal.” 

“The one you make your homes from?” 

Gbaten nodded.  “Yes. It is a substance we have in great abundance. Malleable until it cools from firing, it is a wondrous material we use for many things, home building and decoration merely two of them.  A weapon made of this material would be nearly indestructible and if anything were to give you a chance, I believe it would be a weapon made of this material.” 

Nodding, Loki focused on his meal then, only setting his bowl aside when he had thoroughly cleaned the sides with his bread. “Why do you wish to help me?” 

“The Titan is not out for you.”  Gbaten smiled.  “Well, not _just_ for you. You well know that one life is as worthless as another to him.  We have seen our share of his handiwork.  If you would seek to destroy him, I would not stand in your way and I would do what I could to give you the means to bring about his end.”  

“You have met the Titan before?” 

“I have met his destruction before, yes. I have seen him but once and barely escaped with my life.  Many others I had been with were not so lucky.” 

Readjusting to lean against one wall with a leg outstretched, Loki regarded Gbaten.  “Tell me the history of your people, why the Titan has sought you out and how you came to battle with him, yet we have no knowledge of you in Asgard, though you at least know of us.” 

Gbaten was still savoring his stew and bread. Tearing the ample remainder of the loaf in two, he handed half to Loki before stuffing part of his piece into his mouth.  “It is a long tale.” He said around his mouthful. “To be brief, we have inhabited this world since it’s infancy, coming into being not long after the stone and the trees and the dirt underfoot.  We have had our quarrels, some small, some large, some trivial and some that near ended our existence.  We have always prevailed, against an enemy or ourselves.” 

“How?” 

“We appear miniscule, compared to one such as you, but in truth, when needful we can take on a size as tall as the highest spire in the city west of here that you likely saw on your journey.” 

Loki leaned forward some.  “How?” 

“You are Frost Giant by birth yet appear Asgardian. I would imagine this is a mask, an illusion you cast.  Much like you wear your Asgardian mask without thought, so do we remain small.”  Gbaten shrugged.  “For millennia, we grew, quarreling amongst ourselves, progressing, building, mining, _living_. I had seen a mere millennia, maybe two, pass me by when I went journeying into the universe. It is a large place, you know.” Gbaten set aside his bowl and settled his hands over his stomach.  “I am not surprised you have not heard of us.  I would not have known of you but for a chance visit, much like your own.” 

“Oh?” 

“I had been travelling for nearly a millennia when I found myself injured after leaving one world, too injured to go far. Svartalfheim, I believe it was. I made it to Asgard. Odin was young, then, compared to my three thousand years by the time I met him.  Had just taken on the mantle of Allfather.  He saw to it that I was returned to health and set me on my way once I was well enough.  By the time I returned home, I found we were at war with a previously unknown foe folk named only as the Mad Titan.” 

“How did you defeat him?” 

“We didn’t.  Not truly.  He came down to terrify our people, to begin the war.  Once he felt his minions had it well in hand, he departed for the next world he wished to claim.  We vanquished them, though it took nearly two centuries to eradicate them from our world.” 

“He did not return to see how his handiwork was progressing?  I find that hard to believe.” 

Gbaten smiled.  “Oh, he returned.  By the time he did so, not only had we eradicated his plague, we had discovered the metal our homes are made of and had learned how to properly harness it for many things, the most useful, when it came to Thanos, being defense.  When he realized we would not be so easily vanquished, he left us. He has sent constituencies once in a while, but we consistently defeated them and now are left to ourselves. It will not always be this way, however, and so I am willing to help you, Loki of Asgard, if it means my world will be safe.” 

“Once it is set in fire, the metal is permanently changed?” 

“Whatever shape it has been made into, it cannot be unmade. It is the strongest substance I have yet come across and if there is a way to help you defeat the Titan, I am inclined to think it is through the assistance of the metal we have here.” 

“Do you have a name for it?” 

“Ghaal’itaa.  Now rest, our journey tomorrow will be a long one.”  With that, Gbaten moved to snuff out any light in the small house. 

Loki did his best to get comfortable on the rather small couch.  He would waste energy conforming himself to a smaller space, a smaller size, and it was energy he needed to hoard.  

He lay awake in the dark, listening to the unfamiliar sounds of night in Aramguul:  the nocturnal animals that snuffled outside the windows, the light, grating sound of Gbaten snoring.  

Thus far, he knew of nothing that would best the Titan, and he was hesitant to think that this metal, this Ghaal’itaa, would be of use. If it would be, Loki was unsure why the Trillets hadn’t brought Thanos’ destruction to an end. 

*****

Several hours into their journey the following day and the elderly Trillet showed no signs of needing a reprieve. They had left from his home and journeyed away from both the city and the forest.  After the first hour, the horizon thickened. After the third, huge mountain peaks came into view.  In the sixth hour of their journey they had nearly reached the roots of the range.  

“We excavate it from this range, mostly.” Gbaten had been quiet for much of the journey, save to ask or answer relevant questions. Silence had not seemed needful so much as preferable. 

“Why did you not use the weapons you had made from this metal to defeat the Titan in the first place?”  The thought had kept Loki up much of the night before despite himself as he tried to puzzle the answer out.  

“Ghaal’itaa is strong, to be sure. Stronger than any material I have come across.  That does not mean it could best the Titan.  It means though likely a fool’s errand, it is your best chance of survival, for both of you.” 

Loki nodded.  “What of his gauntlet?” 

“With it in his possession, you have no hope. Without it, you may have a sliver of a chance.  If you can relieve him of it, do it.”  Gbaten stopped walking then, turning a severe expression on Loki.  “Do _not_ touch the Stones. You are a great many things, Loki of Asgard, but you are no match for one of the Infinity Stones. Even Thanos cannot handle them, hence the gauntlet.” 

Loki had found himself nodding more in the past day than he had in a long time.  He asked again. “Why are you so willing to assist me?” 

Gbaten smiled.  “If for some reason you should succeed, you would rid the cosmos of one of its more terrifying inhabitants and allow countless others to breathe, to sleep, to live easier.  If it were only for you and your wife, I would turn you away.” 

It did not seem like the correct answer. At least, it did not seem like the answer Loki had thought to receive.  But there was no lie in Gbaten’s face, in his tone, and so Loki accepted it, though it seemed strange and out of place that any should want to assist him. 

*****

They had left Gbaten’s home just before sunrise, and now, as they ducked into the entrance to the mine, the suns had just passed their zeniths. 

Producing a lantern, the Trillet led the way, though Loki estimated it had been several millennia since he was last in one such place.  

“We would typically not need very much, but given your adversary, I am inclined to have the entire weapon made from Ghaal’itaa.” 

“Who will make it?”  Loki was unsure how many different lives one being could have in a single existence.  Thus far, it seemed Gbaten had been a traveller, a warrior, a sage, and for a time, a family man. 

“A smith, well-versed in the making of such weapons.” 

“Not you?”  

“I may have mined for the stuff when I was Tdenas’ age, but I was never one for such craft.” 

“That seems to be a first.” 

The tunnel they had entered into from the mountainside opened into a wide space, ceilings carved so high it was as though they disappeared into the abyss of space.  

“Your wife, she enjoys your…banter?” Gbaten chuckled to himself, the small, stony sound echoing in the expansive cave. “If that’s what you’d call it.” 

Loki let his eyes wander as they walked. There were several large corridors that disappeared into the darkness and a truly impressive number of rail cars and all manner of gear off to one side at the end of the tracks that led down each corridor.  

“She is as much a handful as I am.” 

Loki took the proffered helm with a lamp mounted on the front, as well as two pickaxes and a satchel that Gbaten had filled with devices Loki could not name.  

Waddling to the front of the rail cars, Gbaten selected one and pushed it forward before hopping in with an agility his age belied. 

“Leave the gear in here with me.  I’ll give you directions, you push.” 

Loki did not remember ever being so amenable before. Even with his mother, he had had a smart word or snarky remark for any order given.  Since he had arrived in Aramguul, he had been far more willing and helpful than he could remember ever being.  

He was in a hurry, he reminded himself, and it would not do to be waylaid. 

And so he placed the items in the deep cart next to Gbaten and, hands on edge, began pushing the rail car forward. The Trillet was heavier than he appeared and though Loki had trouble getting the car moving, once he had it in motion it was far easier.  

“Which corridor?” 

“Far right. Ghaal’itaa is in such abundance here it will be our use of the equipment, not the taking of the metal, that will be a problem should we not finish by morning.” 

They had half the day yet, never mind the evening, to get what they needed.  “Is it far from here?” 

“No, not necessarily.  But it can be hard to mine, in places.  And we will need much.  We will be melting and molding it, so we will need more than you would imagine. We’ll likely fill this cart.” 

“Truly?”  Loki raised his eyebrows at the thought. 

Gbaten nodded.  “Even so.  We will have Mazr fold the metal in as many times as he can while keeping it light enough to wield. The more he can fold in, the stronger it will be.” 

“Mazr, he is the smith you spoke of?” 

“He will make you a weapon to wield for a lifetime, if you are lucky enough to live.” 

***** 

Without natural light, it was hard for Loki to estimate how long they had been in the mine.  Several hours, at least.  Between them, they had blasted stone away to expose the silvery metal and chipped it out in both large chunks and smaller slivers until the rail car was brimming with the material.  

Though he had ridden down in the cart, Gbaten walked easily beside Loki on the way back toward the entrance. 

Nodding to several thick canvas rucksacks, Gbaten hoisted two large blocks in his hands.  “Fill the bags.  We’ll drag them out two at a time.  I’ll bring them to the smith once we are outside the mine.” 

“Will I get to see your true size, then?” 

With a smile that exposed teeth reminiscent of a Frost Giant’s: sharp and pointed, but somehow not quite as terrible, Gbaten nodded. “You will.” 

By the time they had finished bringing the dozen large rucksacks out of the cave, morning light was breaking in the east. They had worked through the afternoon and night, apparently.  Gbaten waited until they had climbed down from the mountainside to halt Loki. 

He had seen a great many things before, but never such as the Trillet growing to a size larger than anything Loki had ever seen: taller than Frost Giants and Rock Trolls, nearing on what must have been one hundred feet tall.  

As if they were no more than a child’s collection of pebbles, Gbaten scooped up the rucksacks and turned carefully, smiling down at Loki when he spotted him.  

This time, the Trillet’s teeth looked rather more menacing. 

“I will bring this to Mazr to begin working on your weapon. And prepare him for your visit. I expect you will reach my home again by noon.”  The sound was thunderous, though it seemed Gbaten was keeping his voice quiet.  

Again, Loki found himself nodding, though this time he took solace in the fact that his easy acquiescence was likely because of the size of the creature that towered over him that had not come up to his waist mere moments before.  

Gbaten was quickly out of sight in a handful of huge strides that shook the ground underfoot though he looked to be moving carefully. 

It would be several more hours before he reached Gbaten’s home again, Loki knew, and he settled into his thoughts as he went. Loki desperately wished to teleport back to the Trillet’s low, earthy home, but he still felt the need to keep some mystery about his abilities, in the event he needed some sort of upper hand. 

*****  

The suns were almost at their peaks when Loki crossed the threshold into Gbaten’s home.  

“You did not see fit to keep me from entering your home.” Loki remembered the series of knocks Tdenas had performed the day before, after which the door swung in of its own volition. 

“I have little need.  The enchantment on the door would not keep you out.” 

“No?” 

Gbaten smiled; his teeth, though sharp, looked far more innocent than they had just hours before.  “You have not yet asked how _I_ traversed the cosmos.”  Giving him a measured look, the Trillet continued.  “Likely in the same way you did.  You practice sorcery, or were gifted with it, at birth.” 

“I do not—“ 

“— _I_ do not wish for this meeting to be anything but what it has been. Thus far, you have been truthful. I would not suggest lying now.” 

Loki grit his teeth.  Ilmr.  He was looking for Ilmr and could not be waylaid.  He relaxed. “My mother.  I was so gifted at birth, she nurtured the tendency.” 

“All Trillets have the ability, some experience it with more strength than others.” 

“Do all experience the talent the same?” 

“Some aspects are the same, others are different.” Gbaten was scribbling something on parchment and had done little more than wave the question away. 

“I am the only one, where I am from. It has earned me ridicule. I am skilled at many things, but none more than the telling and perceiving of lies.” 

At that, the elder Trillet did look up and halt his quill with a sly smile.  “Did my words come as a shock then?” 

“You are not the first, or only, to see through my lies. My mother always could when I was younger, less so as I aged.  My …brother is adept at little more than battle, but has, on one occasion at least, seen through me.  Ilmr always knew.” 

“How?”  Gbaten was scribbling again. 

“I know not.  From our first meetings, she was able to perceive much.  Whether it was her heritage or her experience with similar talent I never knew.” 

“You never asked, then?” 

“It did not seem of particular importance. Knowing would not change her acuity in the area.” 

With a short bark of laughter, Gbaten nodded, finished his scribbling, and held the parchment to Loki.  “Here.” 

Whatever was written, it was in a language Loki could not read.  “What does it say?” 

“It is a message for Mazr.  He is expecting you soon.”  Pointing a stubby, strong hand in a westerly direction, he continued.  “Follow the road down a quarter of a league.  At the fork, follow it left until you reach the smithee, half a league from the fork.” 

Loki stood.  And could not help himself.  “I am fairly unused to taking direction so readily.” 

Gbaten gave him another mischievous smile. “You are an exceptional liar, then, given how well you have behaved thus far.” 

Loki loosed his own short laugh before leaving. He had found himself partial to the old creature. 

*****

Mazr, unlike Gbaten or Tdenas, was far more skeptical. 

“Loki of Asgard, is it?”  Mazr’s voice was far rougher than that of the other two Trillets. 

“It is.”  Loki held the parchment to Mazr, who received it as though a serpent would crawl from it.  In Asgard, he would not have been wrong. 

Mazr read over the note either thrice quickly, or once rather slowly.  Loki wondered briefly of literacy among Trillets.  

Mazr grunted.  “Sit.” 

“I am willing to acquiesce to Gbaten’s orders for both his age and wisdom, you possess neither of those things.” 

A wicked smile that showed all of his blackening teeth crossed Mazr’s face.  “I possess the skill to make a blade from the heap of Ghaal’itaa Gbaten brought me earlier. As I understand it, you need this weapon to save your wife.  Is that not so?” 

With a growl, Loki sat. 

After no small amount of maneuvering, Mazr went back to work at such an angle that Loki was always in his sight no matter what he seemed to be doing.  

“What did it say?” 

“The letter?  To trust you.”  Mazr narrowed his eyes. “I do not.” 

Loki smiled his own, toothy grin that made other beings shudder.  “Good.” 

The soot-covered Trillet went back to his task. “Why do you need such a weapon?” 

Loki thought of Tdenas’ reaction to the mention of the Titan.  Gbaten had not mentioned to Mazr who Loki was trying to save Ilmr from.  “To relieve my enemy of my wife.” 

Mazr nodded.  “Then you will tell me after I finish your weapon, Asgardian.” 

Mazr was a far shorter, far more canny, version of Thor, Loki realized. 

“Perhaps.” 

***** 

It was long after the suns had set when Loki left Mazr’s smithee for Gbaten’s home once again, this time with a truly exquisite weapon in hand.  

He had not told Mazr who he was rescuing Ilmr from. Though Tdenas was perfectly terrified and Gbaten was pleased with Loki’s admittedly foolhardy quest, that was not to say Thanos did not have allies among the Trillets, be the ally a Trillet or disguised as one.  

There was little conversation save for the tense dance of one attempting to gain information without giving any away to the other. Neither succeeded much. 

Nonetheless, Loki had what he needed. The entire weapon was made of Ghaal’itaa; the hilt had not even been wrapped in leather.  It did not seem to need to be: it was easy to adjust to holding and did not aggravate the well-worn callouses on his palms from his other weapons. It fell on the shorter end of longswords, but was perfectly balanced and the edges gleamed wickedly in the moonlight, so sharply had they been honed. 

He could not resist himself and as he walked; Loki sized up various items and, to a one, sliced clean through them as though through warm butter: vegetation, some discarded fruit, a small piece from the strip of leather Loki used to sharpen his other weapons, and a scrap of abandoned wooden beam.  

After each item, Loki checked either edge of the blade and discovered no mark or indentation.  

He was unsure what the Titan would be able to do to such a weapon and though he had his misgivings, Loki properly positioned himself and swept the blade towards a stone on the side of the road. The stone fell into two halves. The blade, again, was unmarred. 

Loki wondered briefly if there was a way to bring some amount, even a small amount, of such a metal with him when he left to be worked and made into other weapons.  

The only tools he had seen Mazr use were made from the same material and Loki doubted that bringing the metal with him would leave him with more than misshapen souvenirs.  

“It is finished, then?”  Again, Gbaten had left his door unenchanted. 

Loki carefully produced the blade. “Beautifully so. Mazr is a skilled smith, if untrusting.” 

Gbaten nodded, looking the weapon over. “It is well done. I knew he would do well.” He returned to his seat. “Did you tell him what it was for?” 

“No.” 

“Good.” 

“Do you not trust him?” 

“Mazr is superstitious, too much so for his own good. He would as soon join the Titan to try and keep his life as he would turn on the Titan when the tides did.”

Loki nodded.  He attempted –and was pleased to find- he could vanish the weapon into the folds of his armor as he would many larger things he wanted to carry with him but that he wished to hide until such time as they became necessary. 

“Can Ghaal’itaa only be molded by tools made of the same?” 

Gbaten looked up from another stew, this one smelling entirely different than the last.  “You wish to bring some with you, Loki of Asgard?” 

“Yes.  There are some items I wish to fortify with it, if I can.” 

Gbaten seemed to think for many minutes, pouring them each a generous helping of the stew before seating himself and answering. “What?” 

“I have four identical throwing knives I wish to enhance with it.” 

“Is not one blade enough?”  The Trillet sounded somewhere between weary and regretful. 

Loki did not want to respond.  He had done so much already for this creature for the sake of Ilmr. That same thought was also his counter-argument against himself:  he had already done so much, what was this last, small thing? Too much.  Necessary.  The revelation of a weakness.  A means to an end. 

Finally, he spoke.  “The ring I gifted Ilmr upon our betrothal grants her the healing abilities the Aesir are graced with, as long as she wears it.  Until the Titan, there were none she could possibly encounter that could harm her while she wore it, nor the ring itself.” 

Gbaten nodded.  “You wish to make this item as indestructible as possible.” 

“I do not foresee another opportunity such as this and I would not risk her being so injured again if it means so simple a thing as keeping the trinket from being broken.” 

Without responding, Gbaten finished his stew and went about lowering the fire.  

Just before sleep took him, Loki heard Gbaten’s voice, quiet in the dark.  “It can be done with any tools, before it is cooled from firing.  I will give you just enough to perform the tasks you claimed. No more, no less.” 

The next morning, he departed Aramguul, thanks to Gbaten in his wake and a small parcel of Ghaal’itaa in his armor.


	18. Chapter Eighteen - Nothing Ever Remains Unavenged

**Chapter Eighteen— Nothing Ever Remains Unavenged**

 

A/N:  There are a couple warnings for this chapter.  The first, there is some description of injury/result of torture in here. The second, there are a couple of major character deaths.  Sorry, it had to be done.  I’m excited though, because you’ll soon see someone I’ve been having a _ton_ of fun with, oh my god.  Lyrics in this chapter are from Placebo’s “Something Rotten”.

 

_Down here, down here_  
 _Face down, I miss you something rotten_  
 _Down here, down here, it stinks_  
 _It stinks of something rotten_  
 _Don’t fear, don’t fear_  
 _Keep all this forgotten  
_ _There’s something rotten down here_

  

Three more months of searching and Loki again found it prudent to stop and rest.  

He was so close to the Titan now he found the pain almost unbearable and the thrum was pulling him towards a specific point, rather than the vague direction he had followed thus far.  

A rest would be necessary if he were to face Thanos. It would be a short one, given the pain that set his skin alight, but a rest nonetheless. 

This realm reminded him much of Midgard. Its inhabitants reminded him of the dwarves of Nidavelir.  He found himself in a small village that bustled with activity.  It was rather picturesque, with tree-lined streets and a multitude of shops and stands.  Smaller side roads were crammed with two and three story buildings that were likely homes. There was no one building that stood out more than another and it was likely the village was near to a larger city. 

Unlike the Trillets that had no care for his abilities, these beings gave him a wide berth.  

“What do you call yourselves?”  Loki had no need to be truthful or kind with these folk, but he would not be outright violent unless he had to.  It would be a waste of precious energy he would need shortly. 

“D-Dwarves.”  The elderly creature managed to stutter out after a handful of attempts. 

It astounded Loki, despite the size of the cosmos, how small the variation was between most things.  He had traveled beyond reckoning only to find himself in a realm seemingly no different from Nidavelir.  He wondered briefly if this realm also claimed such creatures as the Cailean or troubles with Rock Trolls. 

“I have heard it said dwarves are particularly gifted smiths.  Is this true?” 

The dwarf nodded multiple times before putting words to the motion.  “Y-y-yes.” 

“You will bring me to your most gifted smith.” 

The dwarf hesitated, swallowing hard. 

“What?” 

“I cannot journey that far.  Bu-but I can bring you to someone who can.” 

Loki nodded.  “Lead the way.” 

The dwarf scurried off as quickly as he could, which was rather slow.  So slow, Loki was glad he was too old to make the journey to the smithee, as it would likely have taken several months, even if it were across the village. 

Loki found himself before a terrified young dwarf the elder introduced as his granddaughter.  Terrified, but not unwilling to do her grandfather’s bidding. 

“The most gifted smithee?”  Her voice shook, though she clearly had made her best effort to keep it from doing so.  

“Today.  Yes.” 

She nodded.  “Grandfather likely meant Dwinur.  He is half a day’s journey from here.  If we leave now, we can be there by sundown.” 

“Once there, you may return to your home. I will not need a guide back from the smithee.” 

She was quiet several minutes as they walked, fiddling with the hem of her sleeves.  “What –what do you mean to do to Dwinur?”  

Terrified, but irrepressible.  

“Nothing.  He will complete a task for me and I will leave.” 

“What if he refuses?” 

Loki gave her a grin that would have had no effect on the Trillets, but that did cause her to shudder.  “ _Then_ I will do something to Dwinur.” 

She closed her mouth around a sound resembling a quiet squeak of terror and increased her pace. 

***** 

Just before sun set, the dwarf brought them to a halt before a smithee, gesturing to the door.  “You will find Dwinur here.  Do you require anything else of me?” 

Any other question would have earned her ridicule. That question earned her peace. “No.  You may depart.” 

She hurried away back the way they had come. 

Loki watched her go before turning and knocking thrice on the weather-beaten door. 

After several moments and some shuffling and grumbling from the other side, the door swung in.  

The dwarf looked Loki up and down and swore once before shifting to one side to let Loki pass.  “Don’t know what you’re here for, but either make it known, or my death quick.” 

“I have work I would pay most handsomely for.” 

The dwarf narrowed his eyes.  “Go on.” 

Producing his knives and half of the Ghaal’itaa he was allowed to take with him, Loki continued.  “Using as little of this as possible, I need each of these knives coated in a thin coat of this metal.  It must be done quickly.  Once the metal is cooled, it cannot be changed.” 

Dwinur looked Loki up and down several times. “That is not a metal we have here.” 

“No.” 

Nodding, he carefully picked up the piece and brought it to one of the many workbenches in the small space.  Taking a seat, the dwarf turned the chunk of metal over in his hands several times.  He held out a hand without turning back to Loki.  His interest and passion for his craft overtook his fear, it seemed. 

“Let me have the knives.” 

Carefully, Loki passed them to the smith. “A very thin coating on each is all that is needful.” 

Dwinur waved him away.  “Yes, yes.  Let me think. This is not a material to waste and we will have but one chance.” 

After a long stretch of silence, the dwarf chose a small chisel and cut several pieces no more than an inch thick from the block Loki had handed him.  When he finished, half of the original block remained.  If the dwarf were able to produce what was necessary from that small amount, it would leave Loki with three-quarters of his original store he had left Aramguul with and allow for use beyond his knives and Ilmr’s ring, when he found her again. 

Selecting a narrow pot, Dwinur swept the metal pieces inside and placed it over the fire. 

It was not until he moved to work the billows that he spoke again.  “What is your name, traveler?” 

“It matters not.” 

The dwarf gave a small half-smile. “Interesting name. What brings you here?” 

“The need for a gifted smith.” 

A short chuckle escaped the dwarf. “And they sent you to Dwinur, did they?” He nodded to himself. “You’ve just given me reason enough to increase my rates, so I won’t ask you for your name a second time.” 

“Good.” 

They fell into silence then, Loki watching as Dwinur stoked the fire into a roaring blaze and, when the Ghaal’itaa had finally melted, carefully dipped one knife into the molten metal, pincers holding the hilt.  

He removed it quickly, setting to work evening out the still-pliable metal so as to leave it a thin, perfect and sharp layer. Dwinur managed to coat three of the four knives in this way before having to add another few pieces of the cut metal to the pot.  

When the fourth was finished, Loki watched as the dwarf seemed to contemplate something or other as he went about heating and then shaping steel rods into half-moons, which he pounded flat and upon which he carved many intricate designs. 

These, once dipped in a barrel of cold water to cool them some, he fastened to a mold of some kind before pouring the remaining Ghaal’itaa – not much – into the mold. 

Dwinur ignored the mold then, as he went about straightening his shop, occasionally glancing in Loki’s direction as though he would ask Loki a question and then think better of it.  

Such wise decisions meant that when he finally cracked the mold, Dwinur still had a tongue with which to speak.  

The Ghaal’itaa had settled, hardened and cooled around small protrusions in the steel that now permanently anchored one to the other. A wicked semi-circle gleamed in the firelight and Dwinur tested their weight in his hand before handing the pair to Loki. 

“They’re called Chakram.  You can use them either in close combat or by throwing them as you would your knives.” 

Loki carefully inspected the steel. Though remarkably similar, it seemed their written language was altogether different from that of the dwarves of Nidavelir. 

“And what is written on them, in your language?” 

Dwinur gave a thin smile.  “Nothing ever remains unavenged.” 

Loki nodded.  “Appropriate.”  Producing a small pouch, he tossed it to the dwarf.  “Recompense.  And my thanks.” 

With that, Loki disappeared from the smithee. Though necessary, he had already wasted too much time.  

She would not last forever. 

*****

It took yet another quarter of a year before he finally located her.  

It had never occurred to Loki, but it seemed Thanos had not just tucked Ilmr and himself away into some far, dark corner of the cosmos, but the planet as well. The dismal, pitiable rock Thanos had tortured him on seemed to be the same as this: barren, made entirely of rock and dust and thin, thin air.  It was small, for a world, but entirely too large for a place devoid of anything but the Titan and perhaps his hostages.  

While the Titan had many, many talents, much of his sorcery came from the gauntlet.  If he was careful, Loki knew even if he couldn’t outright best the Titan, he could perhaps outwit or outpace him for just long enough. 

And so, Loki cloaked himself in invisibility before approaching.  He knew Thanos could still sense him, just not exactly _where._  

If he were one to shed tears, he would have.  As it was, he felt his rage building to a crescendo the like of which he had never felt.  The pain of his false-father's betrayal, of the secret of his true heritage, the pain of his mother's loss; he thought that to be the height of his rage.  That did not touch what he felt now.   

Ilmr’s eyes were open and blank, staring into nothing, pupils milky.  She was emaciated, what bones weren't broken or bent the wrong way clearly showed through her paper thin, bruised skin.  The ragged rise and fall of her chest was the only movement she was able to make from where she lay canted at an odd, painful angle over a sharp, jagged outcropping of rock.  The muscles and tendons in her neck still strained as her mouth made the shape of a silent scream, though no sound came out.  She had likely lost her voice months ago.  The ground underneath her was black with dried blood. 

"She called for you, at first.  When she still had voice to."  Thanos was casting his eyes around as if he would somehow spot Loki.  " _Screamed_  for you.  It's a pity you didn't reach her sooner; she might have been salvageable.  Might have been some part of her left that still remembered you." 

Loki grit his teeth.  If he made any sound, Thanos would be able to locate him.  He felt rage, and he felt utterly helpless.  There was no place he could secret them to that Thanos could not find them.  Not while he had the gauntlet.  Even after, he was too canny and Loki was hesitant to risk either of them; if Thanos found them again, there would be no torture, just death. 

It would take all of his sorcery to protect them, once he took her.  He could protect the two of them certainly, but not indefinitely, and it did not solve the problem of keeping Thanos from wrecking further havoc.   

The solution was in the gauntlet Thanos wore.  Loki thought back to his many conversations with Ilmr.  She had said something about her time in Midgard that was pertinent.  He took a step back and concentrated; past the pain, past the rage and helplessness, he focused. 

_"They're letting you in now, are they?"  Loki watched her walk in and seat herself across from him as he took his morning meal._

_She smiled.  "It was less of a headache than listening to me talk about_ not _getting to come in on the days you were to do your penance."_

_He motioned to the teapot and small but hearty spread.  "Please."_

_She took tea only._

_He continued to eat, ignoring her eyes on him.  He was still in his Jotun form when he was in his cell: recovered enough to help repair the Bifrost on the days he was allowed out for his atonement, but not recovered enough to hold to the Asgardian enchantment all the time and still heal.  He knew she was staring because she could not fathom something so hideous as this form of his, this true self._

_"I have found the most likely way to destroy Thanos."  She had whispered it._

_His eyes snapped to hers.  To her credit, she did not flinch at the sight of him.  "Where?"_

_"Midgard."  She held up a hand.  "I believe it because it is the last place he would think to look."_

_"And?"  The markings on his face still itched, as they healed.  They would likely remain deep and scarred, but the less he scratched, the better they would heal._

_"And the answer seems to lie within the Soul Gem.  Thanos killed a man whose spirit supposedly still remains within the gem.  Freeing this man's soul from the gem will bring about Thanos' defeat."_

_Loki was not apt to believe anything Midgard had to offer, but he was intrigued.  "And how is it speculated that one frees this man?"_

_Ilmr shook her head.  "It doesn't.  Merely that to defeat Thanos, one must free the man's soul from the gem."_

_Loki nodded thoughtfully.  "Interesting.  Do you believe it?"_

_She shrugged.  "It spoke of the gauntlet; from what you've told me, that's real enough.  It’s more likely that the destruction of the gem will also destroy Thanos, or at least his power."_

_He nodded.  "Do you think you can locate any other literature that might help?"_

_"Doubtful, but I'll look."  She leaned over and kissed him.  He was unable to return it, to even move.  She was surely disgusted by him, how could she have-  "And stop looking so ashamed of yourself."  She noted the guard just outside the cell and smiled, sliding her eyes back to Loki with a wicked grin.  Leaning in again, she kissed him deeper; this time, he did return it.  She did not let him break it until she sensed the guard shifting uncomfortably.  When she spoke before taking her leave, it was against his lips.  "I am not ashamed of you."_

She had not been ashamed of him, of _what_  he was.  And now she lay a shell of herself because of it.   

If he could relieve Thanos of the gauntlet, he could attempt to destroy the gem.  Loki was not sure he believed that tale.  Even if it wasn't true, he could kill the Titan.  He could save Ilmr.   

Thanos could sense he was there but apparently could not sense how close he was.  He had been talking the entire time, circling the empty, pitiful expanse he inhabited.  Loki had not been listening.  He was busy sizing the Titan up.  He would get only one chance.  The Titan was too strong; one misstep, one trip up, and he would fail.   

He could not fail.  He had failed so many times before; this time, he could not.   

Fingering the throwing knife in his sleeve, he smiled.  It was one of the ones Ilmr had given him.  That would deliver the killing blow, he decided.  For the gauntlet, he had the longsword Mazr had made for him.   

He could not fail.  He could not fail.  He would save her.  She was not ashamed of him.  He would not fail her.   

Something the Titan said caught Loki's attention, and he let that voice drift back to him.  "..haps a demonstration would help to coax you from hiding?  Let us see." 

Raising his gauntleted hand, Loki watched as Ilmr lifted into the air at his will and, once a meter or two into the air, was slammed back down onto the rocks.  Her face contorted into another silent scream.  Loki had heard the sound of something crunching and saw one leg twitch involuntarily.  Thanos had crushed some part of her spine.  She bled anew, adding to the dried mass below her.   

Loki stalked cautiously closer to the Titan, not wanting a single sound to give him away, but wanting to end her torture swiftly now that he had found her.   

Twisting his hand, Thanos shifted Ilmr to her side and curled his fingers.  Invisible fingers rent flesh from her side, from her rib cage to her hip.  She flopped like a fish in her agony.  Thanos’ will could keep her still, Loki knew.  This was purely for Loki’s benefit.   

Extending his arm, Thanos closed his fist and Loki could see her strain to breathe become more desperate.  He would kill her now before Loki's eyes.   

Loki had moved close enough. 

Raising the longsword, Loki brought it down with all of his strength.  A sound unlike any he had heard before was ripped from the Titan's throat.  Ilmr crashed back onto her back on the rocks without Thanos' telepathy keeping her in place.   

Without wasting another moment, Loki plunged his throwing knife into the Titan’s throat, not stopping the forward thrust of his arm until he saw the blade poke through the back of Thanos' throat and slicing to one side with all of his strength.   

Whether he was dead was debatable, but for now, he lay in a pool of his own blood unmoving.  It was enough for Loki.  Staring at the gauntlet in his hand, he dug the Titan's hand out of it, unsure of how to destroy the gem.  

Gbaten had warned him not to touch it. He could not afford to lose the longsword, but he had four throwing knives that he had fortified with the Ghaal’itaa. Taking one knife in hand, he drove it into the deep green gem.  It cracked, but remained intact.  The throwing knife had an indentation. 

Loki struck the gem several more times, until at last it broke apart, seeming to disintegrate before his eyes.  

Thanos’ skin grew wan and dry. 

Loki returned to the Titan's body and severed his head, just in case.  And then took the time to cut out his heart.  Just in case.   

He didn't know what to do with the gauntlet so he vanished it into the folds of his armor until he had the time to look at it.   

Ilmr.   

Though she had no voice, her breathing was labored and uneven.   

"Ilmr.  Ilmr, it's over now."  He was terrified to touch her.  Every place he could possibly touch would hurt her.   

Her blank eyes sought out the voice that was not the one that had been poisoning her mind.  He wasn't sure if she could see him, even when her eyes drifted over him.  He was not sure she knew him, but after several long moments of her eyes drifted over, but did not focus on, the spot where he knelt beside her.  Her eyebrows lifted and though still pained, a look of confused relief crossed her face.   

"I'm taking you back to Asgard, you will be healed." 

Carefully, very carefully, he lifted her.  The strong, solid form of her was gone.  She was a waif, thin and frail and a shell of herself.  He feared what he would find in her mind when she got her voice back.   

*****

Knowing where his destination lay exactly, returning to Asgard took no more time than it would have had he traveled by the Bifrost.   

Ilmr had gone slack in his arms by the time he felt solid ground beneath his feet again and he rushed to the healing rooms, ignoring the many, many shocked sounds and faces that he passed.  Word would reach Thor soon that Loki was not quite so dead after all, and Thor could confront him in the healing rooms.   

"Eir!"  The name was a snarl and though startled at the sight of him before her, she hurried over as he gently placed Ilmr on a bed.  Her breathing was so shallow he could barely see her chest rise and fall.   

As she approached, Eir's eyes widened in horror.  She had not seen someone in such a state in a very long time, if ever, it seemed.  She hastily pulled up Ilmr's soul map.  Loki watched her face move from horror to grim professionalism to that of resignation.  He felt his chest tighten.   

"What?"  He did not want to know. 

Eir shook her head.  There was the sound of doors thrown open somewhere behind him and the heavy tread that could only have been Thor.   

"There is nothing I can do for her, not now.  She is on the cusp of death."  She took a step away.  "I will leave you with what time she has."  Eir moved to leave.   

“She wears a ring that gifts her the restorative powers of the Aesir.”  Loki’s tone was acerbic. 

“Even Aesir die in battle.”  Eir’s tone, at first sharp, softened.  “Her wounds are too great.  Spend what time you have left with her on her, not your rage.” 

The heavy footsteps had stopped.  Thor had likely heard what Loki had.   

It could not be true.  The God of Lies was losing his touch, to be unable to see through a deception so thin.  Ilmr could not die.  He placed a hand carefully on her throat and felt himself shudder at the weakening pulse there.   

He could not fail her.  Closing his eyes, Loki concentrated.  He had healed her when Eir could not, when the Kurse had snapped a blade inside of her.  He could save her now.   

There was a voice somewhere murmuring that she could not go, that she needed to be strong for just a little while longer.  It did not sound like Thor, though he felt his hand on his shoulder; Loki realized it was likely himself.   

Nothing.  No rise and fall of her chest, no matter how nearly imperceptible.  No steady pulse under his fingers, no matter how weak.  The thrum under his skin ceased.   

It could not be true.  She had only ever been strong and resolute, firm and unyielding.  It could not be true because he had to save her.  He had failed her so many times; he had promised himself he would not fail her now.  He had started to heal her; she could not be gone.   

She was. 

***** 

Thor did not allow him much time and before he knew it, Loki found himself seated on the floor across from his brother in the throne room on the dias.  He did not remember walking there.   

He was wasting time.  If she were journeying to Valhalla, she was beyond his reach, but given everything he knew of their plans, it was not likely she was going there. No, it was likely she journeyed to Helheim and Loki was determined to find her, to bargain for her. He could not fail her. He would not. 

"Why did you have me believe you dead?"  Thor's voice was heavy. 

Loki remembered something about equality, about the Titan, about an agreement with Ilmr.   

Ilmr.  Ilmr was dead.   

"Loki." 

"The Titan.  If he believed me dead, she would have been safe.  He did not, and so he took her and tortured her."  He released a shaky breath.  "It was only his will keeping her alive.  I didn't realize.  When I killed him, she died."   He sounded much farther from his own voice than he should have. 

"You truly loved her."  Thor sounded incredulous. 

"Do not think because I paid a high price for my life, because I felt _less_  my whole life, that I was somehow void of aught but rage and bitterness."  The quiet tone in which he hurled the words seemed to do more to Thor than they would have had he shouted. 

Thor seemed to take that as assent.  "She will join our mother in Valhalla, Loki.  Take some peace in that." 

Loki laughed; the sound was reminiscent of the Titan to his ears, somehow.  "Is that what you think?  Is it?  No, _Brother_ , she will not journey to Valhalla I do not think.  She did much in her life that was less than honorable, both for her kingdom and herself.” He sighed.  "And now I will attempt to save her from that fate, though I have failed at every turn thus far."   

Thor's eyes widened.  "Helheim." 

Loki nodded.  "Even so."   

He did not know if he would succeed. If he did not, he did not know how long it would take for Vidar to adjust.  How long it would take for _him_  to adjust.  Loki had the distinct feeling that he was now more separated from those around him than he had ever been before.  

"And father?" 

" _Your_  father?  Conveniently, the Odinsleep.  He seems particularly adept of late at falling into it when he is needed most."   

Thor released a resigned sigh.  "Then I cannot accompany you." 

Loki furrowed his brow.  "What?" 

Thor looked at Loki as though, for once, _he_  were the imbecile.  “Helheim. Surely you did not think I would have let you travel alone unless I had to?"  There was a glint in his eye that reminded Loki of a much simpler, terribly far away childhood.  

"I did." Loki stood, feeling as though his entire body was too heavy for him to lift.  "I will return, if I can." 

***** 

Helheim.  It was one of the few realms Loki had never traveled to, though having seen what he had, he no longer felt as terrified or intimidated as he likely would have before his fall into the abyss.   

There was little there, truth be told.  Shades wandered aimlessly, repeating the same motions again and again.  To Loki, it seemed as though they were somehow significant memories, or perhaps the last moment’s thoughts, repeated over and over.   

In the distance across a vast expanse of treeless, grassless dust he saw it: the palace of Lady Death herself.  He was not sure what she would ask for, what he would need to bargain.  He realized it did not matter.  As he went, he scanned the shades he could see for Ilmr.  

He did not see her.   

Loki hoped she was not journeying to Valhalla after all. If she were, there would be no way for him to regain her.  Valhalla was for those who had died honorably in battle, or had lived honorably.   While he was sure she was not the monster he was, Loki was not sure that her actions had constituted _honorable_ in the eyes of the Norns.  

Passing through the gates almost an hour later, he found no resistance to his entry.  She was either expecting him, or did not know he was there.   

" _You_  are not dead yet."  Her voice sent a chill through him, though there was nothing malicious in her tone.   

"No."  He had heard much of Lady Death, of her half alive, half rotten appearance.  It was all true.   

"Then why are you here, _Laufeyson_?"  Her rotten side curled into a cruel smile.   

"I would have her back."  He remained impassive, though internally even looking upon her made him nauseous.   

"Would you?  And what would you bargain with this time?  Would you promise me your life as you did the Titan?  I would not believe you."  She motioned with a rotting hand to one side as she mentioned Thanos. 

"I would not."  His gaze followed that skeletal, disintegrating hand to see him:  Thanos was off to one side, chained as Loki had been upon his return to Asgard.  "He is dead, then?"  He did his best to keep the surprise from his voice. 

"You were the one to solve the riddle, Lie Smith." Death smiled.  "So obsessed with me but yet he did not know how to gain me.  He killed so many to please me -and it did- but never himself.  Because he did not die, he could not have me.  Now, I have him." 

"So it would seem."  Loki did not know what it would be she required of him.  She bargained for little other than lives.  He got the sense, belatedly, that she would be far more canny than Thanos and that he was likely far beyond himself in this.  He asked again anyway. "I would have her back." 

Waving a hand, she brought Ilmr's shade forth.  Loki felt rooted in place.  It looked like her, as she had looked before Thanos and the Kurse had broken her, albeit ashen and both _there_ and _not there_ in death.   

She smiled, reaching out to someone Loki could not see. "You will not fail me until you abandon me."  Her voice was hollow, a mere whisper of itself.   

Again and again she repeated it.  It struck Loki after several iterations that it was _him_  she was reaching for, in whatever memory or moment she was looped in.   

"She does seem as though she would like to have you back, does she not?  Though I cannot say whether she would resemble herself as you knew her.  What would you give up?" 

Loki swallowed.  "Name it."   

Death's eyebrow shot up.  "You will not part with your life until you are prepared, I think that much has been made clear."  She stroked a hand over her chin as she watched him. After several minutes, she smiled wide. “You will not part with your life, so you will part with something of equal value to you.  If I let you leave here with her, you will not return to Asgard for the remainder of your life.” 

Loki, to his credit, merely blinked, though he felt as if the creature Thor called the Hulk had smashed him against the ground several more times.  Aside from Ilmr, when she had lived, Asgard was all that he had left; there was nowhere else in the Nine Realms he could go, no place else he was welcome. And his welcome in Asgard was only because of the false-Odin face he wore.  Or had worn, until he had stormed through the palace in his vain rush to bring Ilmr to the healing rooms. 

But he would have Ilmr back. 

But he would never have a chance of gaining the crown. He would never be Thor’s equal, never mind his better.  

But he would have Ilmr back. 

“Your wife or your home, _Jotun_. Make your choice.” 

Everything he had strived for: the crown, equal regard from the Asgardians, from Odin, that had been given to his golden not-brother.   

Or Ilmr.  

She was not ashamed of him. 

He would never be equal to his not-brother. 

“I will make the choice for you, if you do not speak.” 

His throat felt dry and he wondered briefly if he would be able to speak at all.  Opening his mouth, no words came out and he cleared his throat before trying again. “I would have her back.” 

Death’s eyebrow rose, a wicked smile curling both the sensuous lips on one side and the rotting, oozing gap of her mouth on the other side.  “You surprise me, Laufeyson. When you cried for me in Thanos’ grasp, you did not once think of her, only of the crown of Asgard, of your _brother_.  The crown, regard, and me: that is all I heard from you all those long months.  Not once a fleeting thought of her.” 

Loki bristled.  “I could do little else to protect her, though in vain, from Thanos. And you are stalling.” He held out a hand. “My wife, Death.” 

A sly smile overtook the half-beautiful features of Death. “Who _knows_ what jumble her mind will be when you have her back. Her body will likely be little better. Are you willing to take that risk?”

“I have made my choice.”  Loki had regained his mind; he was sure Ilmr could do the same, in time.  Her body would heal. 

“What if she does not remember you? What if she does and _blames_ you for what has happened to her?” 

He had not thought of that.  She had not been ashamed of him, before Thanos took her. But what of her since? How had he poisoned her mind? 

No, he decided.  It did not matter.  Her mind could be changed.  But this was her only opportunity to be revived, he knew.  

“Then she blames me.”  He took a step forward, though every ounce of self-preservation in him screamed at him to instead step away.  “I would have her.  Now.” 

With a quiet tsk, Death waved her hand and Ilmr’s shade vanished.  

It crossed Loki’s mind that this may have merely been a way for Death to lure him in.  If she had, it no longer mattered.  He would battle his way out, Ilmr’s shade with him if need be.  

Instead, Ilmr appeared next to him as a shade at first, but increasingly solid, until the light returned to her eyes and she gasped for breath and sagged under her own weight.  

Loki caught her carefully, lifting her easily into his arms.  While he had to admit she looked a slight bit better than she had upon her death, she was still feather-light and weak.  And likely in pain, if the sensation that accompanied the returning thrum under his skin was any indication.   

“I take my leave of you.”  He bowed once before turning and starting out of Death’s palace. 

“Laufeyson.”  Though it made him bristle, Loki turned his head.  “Should you step foot in Asgard again, you will _both_ perish.  And nothing will save either of you from the fate of me, then.” 

With a curt nod, Loki strode out as swiftly as he could. 

Her breathing was labored, but she seemed somehow haler than she had been.  She was mumbling things that she was too hoarse for Loki to make out properly. 

He gave her a careful, gentle squeeze. He did not know what injuries she still carried.  “You are safe now, Ilmr.” 

Readjusting his hold on her, he made for the Bifrost site. Her head rested on his shoulder. After several minutes of silence, all the while trying to calm the frenzy that filled his mind, he heard her mumble again.  This time, she was close enough to his ear that he could hear her.  

“It’s him.” 

No more.  The entire way back to the Bifrost site, he heard nothing else from her, but for it, his heart was lighter.  She remained, and she would return, regardless of the shell she was now or how long it took. He was sure of it. 

“Mid-“ Loki let out a breath.  He hated Midgard.  _She_ hated Midgard. She was alive. “Midgard, Heimdall.” 

*****

Heimdall had placed them far enough from Ilmr’s house that S.H.I.E.L.D. would not easily find them.  The one grace of Heimdall, Loki mused, was that he had liked Ilmr; it was a kindness he did her, not Loki.  

There would be no leaving Asgard now, for Thor. He was bound to duty until Odin awoke. If he did.  In the meantime, Thor and his “goat” would remain. Were it not for the location, Loki could have gotten used to a place without Thor.  

Vanishing them quickly to her house in _the country,_ as she had told him it was called, he laid her on her bed and, with a hand over her forehead, focused on cataloguing her injuries from what little her mind could tell him of them. 

He could not have taken her to one of the Midgardian healers.  Not only were they inept, he knew enough of the realm to know that he would find himself the cause of scrutiny.  He could not afford such trifling, and neither could she.  

Death had not made it easy on him, though he was not surprised.  Most of her bones remained broken and though the bleeding had ceased, many of the lacerations remained.  It would take him much time and most of his energy, but he could heal her, passing a hand over each injury as he had with the blade from the Kurse.  He laid down behind her and wrapped himself carefully around her instead, closing his eyes and concentrating, the heat of the healing sorcery he called forth seeping slowly into her body.  It would drain him more this way, but it would be faster. 

It took him the entire night, and shortly after dawn he crushed her carefully closer and fell asleep, secure in the knowledge that she was physically well again, though would likely not wake before he did, if only because of the strain the healing process put on her body. 

***** 

Three days later, Thor arrived, Fenrir and Vidar in tow. He had the sense to put their collars on.  Jane Foster was doing him a realm of good, intellectually.  

“Heimdall has told me what he saw in Helheim, brother. How does the Lady Ilmr fare?” 

Loki busied himself with petting their hounds. “She sleeps.  She is physically healed and has been asleep since revived in Helheim.  I do not know what I will find inside her mind when she wakes.” 

Thor nodded, as if he had understood anything of what Loki had just said.  “If I can be of help, pl—“ 

“—Call for you?  We are far past childhood bumps in the night, _brother_. I am exiled and you are to remain in Asgard until Odin wakes, _if_ he wakes.” 

“If you need anything for _her_ , Loki.” 

Loki’s mouth shut with an audible click. That he would not speak against, not yet.  Not until she did herself. He could only nod. 

“I came to deliver your hounds.” 

“And S.H.I.E.L.D.?” 

“I came by way of New York, so that they would not know of your location.” 

Loki released a relieved breath.  “And now?” 

“Now I will return to New York and visit the Man of Iron to keep suspicions at bay before returning to Asgard by nightfall. I do not believe we will see each other again, not for some time.” 

Loki could only nod.  Even now, his false-brother was looking after him, as he always had when they were children.  It made him feel ashamed, and yet he was grateful for it, for Ilmr’s sake.  He would not voice this to Thor and instead watched him take to the sky with Mjolnir before turning to the house with Fenrir and Vidar.

 

 


	19. Chapter Nineteen - In Deep

**Chapter Nineteen – In Deep**

 

A/N:  This chapter has a bunch of warnings.  There are some parts that people may find upsetting due to the nature of them (madness, self-harm).  But overall, it’s a good chapter and you get to see someone I’ve been having fun with for a while now. 

 

PSA: The self-harm depicted/mentioned here does not mean I condone said behavior.  On the contrary.  As someone who found herself self-harming when she was younger, I do not advise or condone it and strongly suggest to any who do this, or consider doing it, that you talk to someone about it, because it’s more than a behavior, it’s a mental state. Doesn’t have to be a therapist. Doesn’t have to be a parent or authority figure or spouse.  It can be a friend. It can be an anonymous friend online, if that’s helpful.  But you need to talk to someone about it because it _is_ serious, regardless of why you do it or consider doing it. Take care of yourself and your loved ones.  Ok? Ok.

 

This chapter swaps between Loki and Ilmr a few times. It starts off with Loki, then switches to Ilmr, then back to Loki, then Ilmr again, before going back to Loki for the remainder of the chapter.  Each double break indicates a perspective swap.  Lyrics in this chapter are from Linkin Park’s “Papercut”. (I’m early for Throwback Thursday. Sue me.)

 

 

_It's like I'm paranoid lookin' over my back_  
 _It's like a whirlwind inside of my head_  
 _It's like I can't stop what I'm hearing within  
_ _It's like the face inside is right beneath my skin_

  

A week.  An entire week she lay asleep in her –he supposed now, their- bed. It was maddening. He was sure there would have been grooves in the floorboards, from his pacing.  He had not allowed Vidar near her for fear that it would somehow harm her. 

On the seventh day, his first indication that she had woken was a blood-curdling scream.  Vidar and Fenrir startled at the sound.   

Glancing into the bedchamber, he realized the scream was not because finally, truly, waking from death was traumatic; not _just_ because of that, at least. No, whatever it was, it was more. Eyes wide and unseeing, hands clawing at an invisible enemy above her and before he knew it, clawing at herself. 

Hurrying in, he managed to restrain her before she could do much damage to herself or him.  This was beyond him.  He could comfort Fenrir when the pup was feeling insecure; he had even been able to reassure Ilmr on occasion; those rare, rare times she’d seemed to need it. He had experienced similar madness himself, but never had he tried to calm it.  

Loki found himself whispering into her hair anything he thought could be remotely comforting and calming.  

It did not help for a long time.  Even when it finally seemed to, the only change in her was a replacement of the screaming and flailing with shaking so violent the whole bed shook. What little he did know of healing and his own experience reminded him of uncontrollable panic. 

Lifting her easily, as she was physically healed but no less weak for it, he carried her to the bathing room and turned on the water. He hoped the sensation would startle her out of her panic.  He attempted to strip her but when that proved too difficult because of her shaking, he merely set her under the steady stream of lukewarm water and sat himself on the edge of the bath.  

The strong, proud, nearly immovable woman he had known was so little like the shivering, cowering mess before him. Loki wondered briefly how long it would take to bring her back to herself.  He wondered if it were possible at all.  

She would not go anywhere, and so he ventured into the kitchen to prepare something in the hope that she would eat. 

When he returned almost ten minutes later, plated sandwich in hand, it slipped from his grasp at the sight before him. 

She was still fully clothed and huddled under the stream, but half of her was covered in blood that was being replaced as quickly as it could be washed off of her and down the drain.  In the few minutes he had been gone, she had torn the veins in her wrist open with the fingernails on her opposite hand.  

Cursing quietly, he knelt before her, wrapping the damaged limb in one hand and concentrating, only releasing his hold when he felt the wound had healed enough to stop bleeding.  Even a week after his efforts to heal her, he was still not restored enough to heal this small wound fully.  

“What possessed you to do such a thing?” He attempted to keep his voice soft despite his anger and worry.  He thought he mostly succeeded.  

She stared up at him blankly, utterly silent. A few slow blinks were the only answer he eventually received.  

Something had to be done.  He was quickly running out of things with which to bargain, however.  

Lifting her from the bath once most of the blood had been washed away, he brought her back to their chambers to dress her in dry clothes. She brooked no argument and the shaking had subsided since he had placed her in the shower.  He had been correct in that regard, at least. 

What he saw when he managed to strip her made his blood run cold.  

Thanos had used iron to torture her. 

The scars that marred a large portion of her body alternated between harsh, vicious marks and more intricate designs. The scars did not travel far down her arms or up her throat, as the clothes she had been wearing gave him no indication that they had existed.  When he had found her, her skin had been too paper thin for him to notice them. There was no mistaking them; they were there only for the one who would see her in such a state of undress to know that Thanos had destroyed her.  Loki. 

Because of Loki, they were there. 

The scarring was clearly some sort of contingency, should she escape him, he saw no point to the careful avoidance of certain spots on her body otherwise.  Loki wondered at what other contingencies the Titan had arranged. 

She watched him silently, not seeming to notice his expression that shifted from wide-eyed horror to anger to regret. At least, if she did, she didn’t understand it or bother with it, only watching him silently. Though standing upright, the slight hunch of her shoulders and bend of her knees seemed to make her look curled into herself defensively. 

He settled her on the couch in their living area after her had redressed her and sat nearby pretending to read. She had said nothing and remained silent, though her eyes roved near-frantically around the space. 

Loki wracked his brain.  Death was of no use to him any longer.  Thanos was dead and he would not have bargained with him again. Thor and the Asgardian healers failed to save her twice already.  

The only two avenues he could think of immediately made him shudder:  S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Norns.  

The former would likely kill him on sight and if not, they would likely subject Ilmr to a barrage of experimentation as soon as help her. The latter, the tales said, were three Jotun women continually watering the branches of the Yggdrasil. He doubted they took physical form, but he had read ancient tomes that noted they could be called upon in various enchantments. 

One was fraught with peril and near-certain decline. The other was no less troubling; one needed to call upon the Norns only in dire need and with explicit requests. Loki had read many a tale depicting requests open for interpretation, for which the requester was inadvertently punished with a not-quite-correct result.  

In either instance, Loki was loathe to risk her in the state she was currently.  He was loathe to do nothing.  While the screaming, flailing, harmful exhibitions were not welcome, the silent, blank expression was more disconcerting.  

***** 

He waited until she was asleep again before carefully placing a hand over her forehead and rifling through her mind. She was too quiet, too willing to do as he had directed aside from her outburst when she first woke. 

Oh.   _Oh_. 

Because bubbling just underneath the surface were the terrifying things that likely had her at the edge of her sanity. He was unsure whether she was silent because she was so damaged or because if she opened her mouth again, the downright horrified screaming would begin once more.  

There was Thanos’ torture in every corner of her mind: blood and sickly sounds of breaking bones, screaming and a constant, persistent plea for the end of the ministrations, for, impossibly, _Loki_. The sound of Thanos’ voice rushed around her mind as an encompassing, blanketing fog.  

Much of her mind was a jumbled mess, increasing in its cacophony of maddening babble.  Thanos had not done to her what he had done to Loki.  Loki had been broken down and brainwashed, but left intact for the purposes of finding the Tesseract, of ruling Midgard.  Ilmr had been broken and as much of her sense of self as possible _erased_.  Loki was not sure how successful the Titan had been, but the disjointed, howling near-insanity he found himself rifling through just below the surface of her mind was not comforting.  

He laid down next to her and shut his eyes, willing sleep to come before he no longer had the chance to have any. 

*****  
***** 

Black tufts and green and flayed skin and white-hot pain and screaming, so much screaming and pleading and woods.  The woods.  There was a man in the woods with a wooden child's sword and a woman with half of a face.  Half a face.  Half -half -half -less than half a mind.  A fool and wine and a great weapon.  Silver and mouths and tawny fur and worthless mongrels.  Mongrel.  Mongrel. A man with a severe face.  No worth.  No use.  No sorcery.  No worth. No use.  Mongrel.  Iron and mongrels and bitterness and nothing.  Nothing.  Nothing to her.  Nothing for her.  Lies and a grimace and the sound of crunching bones.  Worthless bones.  Nothing for her.  All feigned.  No worth, no use, no place.  No place.  No place. No place to be.  No place to be from.  No place to go to.  Only the screaming and the crunching and the pleading and the blood.  So much blood.  Screaming.  Blood. Screaming. 

*****  
***** 

Another terrible, blood-curdling scream woke him. Whether it was a nightmare or a memory he did not know, but he did know she would hurt herself if she was not stopped. Sliding her on top of him, her back to his chest, he wrapped his limbs around hers and held her as tightly as he dared.  

Again he heard himself repeat mindless, useless phrases over and over until she finally relented, chest rising and falling at a truly impressive pace. 

By dawn, she had fallen asleep again. Exhausted, he let his head fall back against his pillow, but did not let her go for fear that she would wake again in a similar state.  

***** 

When he finally did wake late in the morning, he felt eyes on him. At some point, she had wriggled out of his hold without disturbing him and was now facing him, watching him with scrutiny.  

“I died.”  She sounded like herself, albeit a far less confident version. 

He ran a hand over his face, rubbing sleep out of his features.  “Yes.” 

“I am no longer dead.” 

“Yes.” 

She blinked several times, tears coming to her eyes unbidden.  When she spoke, it was a disbelieving whisper.  “Why?” 

“Because I had the choice between you and Asgard and only one opportunity to choose.  I chose you.” 

She recoiled slightly, a horrified look fixed on her features.  “You chose wrong. Tell her you were mistaken. Make her take me back.” The thought of her superiority in his mind to the realm he had once called home was apparently abhorrent to her. 

“I cannot, and I would not.  You will remember, in time, that the Titan is lying, that you are worth more than what he has made you believe.  You will remember you are strong and brave and _wanted_.” 

She shuddered at the mention of Thanos, but nodded. He did not believe her. 

***** 

She knew him, even if she did not know who he was. She fell silent again for three days. She did not seem uncomfortable or nervous around him or because of him. She seemed to trust him implicitly, though Loki was sure if he asked her why, she would not know. 

He was both relieved and disconcerted. 

“Ilmr.”  He had been keeping both hounds in the living room.  She did not seem fearful of them, but he erred on the side of caution. 

He stood against the counter in the kitchen and watched her carefully as she approached from the bedroom looking for tea, most likely. It had been three days and the previous night was the first without being awoken by her screaming. Aside from the devastating panic attacks, the only thing she would do was drink tea and stare. 

She did not appear to know he was speaking to her. 

“Ilmr.” 

Noticing his eyes on her, she looked to him. Her eyes seemed to glaze with tears she did not let fall.  “I have a name?” 

Loki wondered briefly if she would remember that she loved him. Once she knew what he had done, what _she_ had done, he wondered if she would still love him. 

“Yes, Ilmr.  As do I. You are Ilmr, of Vanaheim and Asgard. I am Loki, of Asgard, and I am your husband.” 

She seemed to retreat into herself at that, eyes darting back and forth as if reconciling the information with what she thought she knew.  Loki nearly shook her she was motionless in the middle of the room for so long. 

Finally, she shook her head.  Once, and then vehemently.  She fled to the living room, abandoning all thoughts of tea. Loki watched her curl up between Vidar and Fenrir, her head on Vidar’s back.  

Sensing all was not well, Vidar merely lifted his head to stare at Loki before resting it in on one of her arms. She had gravitated towards him and though he was sure she didn’t know why, it relieved Loki to see something so small but so much a part of her still intact somewhere inside her.

Fenrir rested his head on her legs. He had been glad to have her back, Loki noted, though he was very cautious around her.  

Turning away, Loki fixed tea for them both, glancing to the living room every few minutes to ensure there was no repeat of the first day she had woken.  

Cautiously, he set her mug down on the table in front of the couch, seating himself in the armchair nearby.  He was no healer and if left to heal her mind, he would ruin her further.  _His_ mind was testament to that.  

He needed to recruit assistance.  

The Norns, Loki decided, were the second-best choice. They could as easily further, irreparably, ruin her as mend her.  If they saw fit to do more than leave her as she was.  

Though he was loathe to admit it, S.H.I.E.L.D. was his best option.  

*****  
***** 

Voice.  A voice, she had a voice.  She knew, because she had heard herself scream, though it sounded far away.  She had a body; there was an earthquake within her though the only reason she knew of was a grinning grimace that made her shake further.   

He would come, He would always come, but now he was there; the other he that she knew would not hurt her like He would, he called himself Loki.  Loki and the large animals she knew but could not place, could not name.  There was something she felt when she was with him, something that must have been safety, though she had never felt such a thing before.   

She could tell he was treating her carefully, as though she were a scared, cornered animal.  It took her days to realize she was.  There was so much she wanted to ask, to say, though she wasn't always sure what.  She felt sometimes that if she opened her mouth, the words would fall out in the jumble she felt pounding around her mind.  Most of the time, she did not open her mouth because she could feel a scream locked just behind her teeth.   

She tried drowning it with tea.  It did not work.  She had tried letting it out through one arm that seemed particularly accessible.  It did not work, and it seemed to frighten and anger him.  She tried sleeping.  The cacophony rose to a deafening level and it broke free of her mouth in the night.   

Loki had told her that her name was Ilmr.  That he was her husband.  She did not drink any tea that day for fear of it immediately coming back up, such was her nausea at the thought that he had, for some reason, tied himself to her.  Unwillingly, certainly, but that he remained, that he was _kind:_ she could not fathom it.  Fathom _why_.   

She would remember she was strong, he said.  He said that she would remember she was strong and that she, impossibly, mattered.   

She had no memory of such a time.  

*****  
***** 

Of the Avengers, aside from Thor, Loki had decided that the Man of Iron was best to approach; if he were indeed to follow through with the foolish notion that S.H.I.E.L.D. could somehow be helpful.   

He could not leave her behind, though he wished to.  He could not risk her deciding to harm herself again.   

And so he found himself standing on the large terrace that he had battled both the Man of Iron and Thor upon two years earlier.   

He did not have to wait long.   

The Man of Iron appeared in his suit behind him.  Ilmr had heard him first, whipping around and backing away to stand behind Loki.  Though she did not remember herself, the fearful slope to her shoulders was minimal.  Even in madness, there was some semblance of her confidence. 

Loki raised his hands, keeping a close eye on the metal man before him, whose hands were splayed as if taking aim.   

"What do you want, Miss Congeniality?" 

Loki narrowed his eyes.  "Though it pains me greatly," Loki swallowed.  Ilmr.  Ilmr.  It was about Ilmr.  "I require your assistance." 

He heard the Man of Iron's muffled laughter.  "I can't think of one reason why I wouldn't blast you off the edge of the tower instead." 

Though he was loathe to do it and leave her unprotected, Loki stepped aside.  Ilmr cowered further, slowly beginning to tremble and flinch.   

"Times Square's a few blocks away, that's where they film Dr. Phil." 

Loki cracked his jaw.  He did not understand the reference, but time was being wasted.  " _Thanos_  has tortured her."  Upon hearing the name, he watched Ilmr jerk her head to one side as if struck.  "She is, well," he nodded to her, " _look_ at her." 

The Man of Iron set down on the terrace, but kept his distance.  "I'm reminded of that bitch that I hear eventually comes around."  Loki did not catch that reference either, but he watched carefully as Stark held a hand out and addressed Ilmr.  "Come on honey, I donate to a great shelter organization, I'll be sure you're looked after."

Loki growled.  And regretted it, seeing Ilmr flinch further.  At that, he disregarded Stark and turned to Ilmr instead.  If he moved very slowly, he had realized, she would let him do nearly anything he wished.  She trusted him still, though he doubted she knew why.  He gently, slowly, placed his hands on her shoulders.  "I will let no more harm come to you.  Say it." 

She did not speak until her trembling had subsided several minutes later.  "You will let no more harm come to me."  She was mouse-quiet.   

He lifted one corner of his mouth in a tiny, encouraging smile and carefully drew her to stand against him until she stilled completely.  It took many minutes.  He was unsure whether Stark was still standing there or if he had gone to retrieve his fellow Avengers. 

"Jesus.  You really _are_  telling the truth." 

When Loki glanced around, the mask to the machine was lifted and he could see Stark's disbelieving expression. 

"Yes." 

"What did he do to her?" 

Loki glanced around before finally settling his gaze on Ilmr.  "Wait inside, we will be in momentarily."  He tilted her chin up.  "Please do not make a mess." 

After a small amount of coaxing, he watched her cautiously wander in and seat herself on a large, comfortable looking, black leather couch.   

"A mess?" 

Loki made a face, touching his own wrist to further indicate his allusion.  "When she first woke, she tried to take her life, though I'm not sure she was aware that was what she was doing.  She seems still to be on that same edge." 

"Jesus.   _That's_  the same wife that kicked Chitauri ass almost two years ago?  You didn't divorce and just happen to have a type?" 

"It is the same wife."  Loki's voice had an edge to it he could not entirely check.  She needed Stark's help and he was the only one able to bargain for it.  "Thanos tortured her for nearly a year.  When I killed him, she died; his will was the only thing keeping her alive." 

"She looks good, for a zombie." 

Loki made a disgusted sound.  "I retrieved her from Helheim,  _imbecile."_

Stark whistled low.  " _That_  must have cost you.  Did Satan ask for your antlers?  The Glowstick of Destiny, maybe? Oh! What about--" 

"--I agreed to never to return to Asgard, lest we both perish." 

Stark merely stared at him.  "So you're stuck here.  Both of you.  Forever." 

Loki shrugged.  "I have been barred from entering Asgard; she may go where she pleases." 

Sighing, Stark motioned towards the interior of the tower.  Loki followed the path Ilmr had taken while a strange and fascinating machine removed the metal suit from Stark.   

"So what do you want me to do?"  Stark was pouring himself a glass of richly colored alcohol.   

"Not you.  S.H.I.E.L.D." 

A bark of laughter escaped the Man of Iron and it made Ilmr jump.  "Why would they help you? Not _only_  did you try to take over the world -which, let's be honest, should be enough right there- you turned agents into puppets _and_  more important than that - you killed Phil!"  

"Because if they help her, I will serve punishment here." 

"As if.  You're what would happen if Houdini and Freud had a baby.  Besides," Stark too a deep gulp of his drink, "your punishment would probably make her a widow.  Just saying." 

"If they do not help her, I will be a widower." 

Stark ran a hand over his face and let out a strangled sound.  "JARVIS..." 

"Already dialing, sir." 

Motioning for him to get out of sight, Stark pulled up a transparent screen.  The face of the man Loki knew only as the Hulk flickered into view.  "Do you have _any_  idea what time it is, Tony?  Jesus.  Some of us--" 

"--What if I told you I could probably hand Fury Loki's head.  On a platter.  A nice one.  Pepper just had these beautiful platters ordered for our annual gal--" 

"--Loki.  Head.  Platter.  I'm listening."  The man rubbed sleep from his features. 

Stark grinned wide.  Loki could feel his rage building but kept silent for now.  If he made the wrong move, Ilmr would suffer further for it.   

"I have an opportunity, and I'm not sure what's best.  I'm not even sure I could hold up my end of the bargain if I struck it." 

"I don't like it when you drink and scheme.  And he'd escape; you know that as well as I do." 

Tony held up a hand.  "What if there was a way to ensure he wouldn't?" 

Loki disliked this.  Again, Ilmr was collateral.  They would likely try to help her in exchange, but they would hold her over his head until he had served his punishment, whatever it was.   

"I thought you gave up drinking after the Malibu Incident." 

"Really, Banner? The Malibu Incident?  My house was fucking _demolished_  and S.H.I.E.L.D. has everyone so under it's thumb it's an _incident_?  Who buys the dictionaries in that place?" 

"Tony. What is it?"  The man, Banner, who shared a body with the Hulk, was so unlike the creature.  So quiet and patient.   

Tony tilted his head, motioning to Loki to join him.  Loki hesitated.  Tony motioned more definitively.   

Loki took several deliberate steps to place himself near, but not next to, Stark.   

"Ho-ly shit."  Banner turned his stunned gaze from Loki to Tony.  "Please tell me I'm not going to regret asking this:   _why is he in the tower in one piece_?" 

"Ilmr needs the type of assistance I believe S.H.I.E.L.D. can provide.  In exchange, I am willing to serve my sentence such that Midgard would provide." 

"Ilmr?  Who the hell is Ilmr?" 

"Remember the lady with the kickass huge dogs?  That's his _wife_.  Well, she was.  Now she's..." Tony made a face, tilting his hand back and forth a couple times.  "...She's a nearly catatonic mess that _resembles_  his wife." 

Loki took the time to glare at Stark before speaking.  "The being that gave me the scepter, that bid me seek out the Tesseract - that gave me the Chitauri - took her as payment for my failure and tortured her beyond recognition.  I would have S.H.I.E.L.D. restore her.  For that, I would serve the punishment Midgard saw fit to hand out." 

Banner sat back from his screen, it seemed, running a hand through his hair.  "Jesus, Tony.  How much valium does Pepper take to live with you and not open a vein?" 

"Uh, hey, hello.  Vein-opening a touchy subject around here right now." 

The man on the screen paled.  "Oh, god."  He sighed.  He finally addressed Loki directly.  "I don't even think S.H.I.E.L.D. has what she needs, honestly." 

"And what is it that she needs?" Loki's patience was wearing thin. 

"Time.  And a good therapist.  A really, _really_  good therapist.  And did I mention time?" 

"You do not understand.  He has _erased_  her as much as he could.  She--" 

"--Then I'll get the name of Barton's therapist."  Banner smiled humorlessly.  "You remember Agent Barton, right?" 

Loki grit his teeth.  "This is entirely different.  I pushed Barton out, yes, but I left him intact for when he returned.  Thanos granted her no such kindness. He--" Loki cast around, finally laying two fingers on Stark's temple, pushing the memories he had seen in Ilmr's mind into the man's.   

Stark looked up wild-eyed at Loki when the god removed his hand, then to Banner.  "Just get dressed and come up here." He thumbed a button, and the screen went dark. 

"Banner is here?" 

"Yeah." Stark shrugged, walking around Loki towards the couches.  "He saw what I had in the lab and he drops in now pretty frequently, when he's not, you know," he took the last swig of his drink and set the empty glass beside him on the large mahogany table he sat on facing Ilmr. "Being giant and green and angry."  He turned his attention to Ilmr, reaching out to her as he did. 

He moved too quickly and she flinched away.   

Tony held his hands up to show he meant no harm. "Sorry, sorry."  He began to move again, this time slowly.  She watched him with great scrutiny but allowed him to look her over, taking a pulse and looking into her eyes as if he'd find anything sane there.   

When he spoke, it was quiet enough that Loki realized the man was talking to himself.  "I don't understand how you're still alive now." 

"I retrieved her from Helhei--" 

"--No, I mean _since_.  Look at her; she's under such constant distress I'm amazed she's still alive now."  He looked up as Banner came in.  "Hey, change of plans.  Let's go to the lab." 

"Lab?"  Loki flicked his gaze between the two Avengers.   

"Oh, but taking her to _S.H.I.E.L.D._ would have been ok?"  Tony looked to Banner.  "Wait til you hear this.  JARVIS, escort our ...guests, will you?"  Tony disappeared through the door with Banner that the latter had just entered through.   

***** 

It took nearly a quarter of an hour, but Loki coaxed Ilmr up and to the _lab_  Stark had specified.   

"..ean it's crazy.  He showed me what he saw in there and it's _shrieking_  insanity. You thought _he_  was a bag of cats.  She--..."  Tony trailed off when he realized he had an audience of one bag of cats and one shrieking insanity. 

"Tony filled me in."  Banner motioned to a chair.  "Can you have her sit here?" 

More coaxing, but she did it.  Loki watched closely as Banner inspected her.  He seemed to understand the need for slow, deliberate motions.   

"You're right."   

Before Banner could continue, Stark cut in.  "I know.  I always am, and _yet_ \--" 

"--You're _right_ ; her heart is beating like a hummingbird's."  Banner looked to Ilmr. "Your heart should have failed already, it's working way too hard, especially considering what it sounds like you went through. Do you feel any physical distress?" 

She stared at Banner as if she had not heard him.   

"See?  I told you: nearly catatonic."  Tony was still gloating. 

A glare was thrown at Stark. "Will you just...eat your blueberries and be quiet?  Please?"  Banner returned his attention to Ilmr, finally sitting back after several minutes and fixing Loki with a perplexed look.   

"What?"  

"What did you think S.H.I.E.L.D. would be able to do for her?" 

" _Fix_  her." 

"You don't want to hear this, but this...isn't fixable.  I mean with time and a truly stellar therapist, maybe a stint in a hospital, she might get _better._ But this isn't going away, this will always be there.  Even _if_  she gets better, it's not likely the person you knew will be in there.  If there were magic for this sort of thing, I think you would have used it already." 

Loki nodded.  He could only nod.  He had brought her back, exiled himself from Asgard, and her death had been a mercy after all.  Not his, granted, but he had not seen that, in his persistent myopia.  Once he had killed Thanos, he-- 

Thanos.   

The gauntlet.   

Loki began to smile so wide and wickedly that the two scientists stepped back.  He only ceased seeing Ilmr begin to visibly panic at the sight. 

"If I were to give you - S.H.I.E.L.D. - an item of cosmic worth, would you consider my sentence served?" 

"That's a question for Fury."  Banner was diplomatic. 

"Yes."  Tony was ever quick to keep talking. 

Banner looked to the insubordinate Avenger.  "Tony --" 

The Man of Iron turned to his companion and spoke low so that Loki could not hear. 

"I don't like it."  Banner leaned away after several minutes.  "And neither will Fury." 

"Fury should appreciate it.  Isn't he the one always ignoring the Council?  I'm not much for 'do as I say, not as I do', so I say we do it." 

Tony looked to Loki expectantly. 

With a swift motion of his hands, the gauntlet appeared.  He had forgotten he had taken it at all.  He was not sure why: the item was infinitely powerful and should have been in the forefront of his mind.   

"It contains the Infinity Stones." He motioned to the large oval-shaped gems along the knuckles and back of the hand.  "They hold a great amount of power and in the wrong hands –Thanos’, for example- could be insurmountably destructive.  In the right hands..." he shrugged, "In the right hands, it would be a most useful defense." 

Tony gave him a dubious look.  "And you'll _willingly_  give that up to erase your sentence, if we help her?  Even if we fail?" 

Loki shook his head.  "No.  I will help her.  The gems contained here have the power necessary." 

"...Then why did you come here?"  Banner looked as confused as Stark. 

Loki glanced around.  He was rarely at a loss for words. 

"Oh my god."  Tony pointed at Loki and looked between he and Banner.  "You have no idea how deep in this you are, do you?" 

Loki let out an exasperated sigh and half rolled his eyes.  Though he had sought Stark out, that was not to say he didn't find him the most irritating of the group.  "In _what?_ " 

Another bark of laughter.  "In _her_."  He looked to Banner.  "Bruce, _he loves her_.  Oh my god.  Marilyn Manson over here actually has _feelings_.  This is amazing.  He's so wrapped up he _forgot_  he had the most powerful weapon _in his pocket_."  A fit of giggles over took Tony.  "Banner, now we _have_  to help her.  He has a conscience now, we can't let it descend into madness." 

Bruce smiled thinly, only nodding.  He was still watching Loki with great caution.   

"I no longer  _need_ your assistance.  However, if it will commute my sentence, I will relinquish the gauntlet once she is well."  

Loki turned back to Ilmr, who had remained seated throughout the exchange. If she understood anything of what had been said she gave no indication.  He could hear Bruce and Tony arguing behind him quietly but he paid them no mind.  He needed to focus.   

"In truth, I do not know whether this will be painful.  I suspect it likely will be."  Loki kept his voice low, partially so the Avengers behind him would not hear, but mostly because when she had had her mind, it was the tone she responded to most.   

Ilmr watched him silently, seeming to be deciding upon something. When she did, she spoke as quietly as before. "You will let no more harm come to me." 

Loki could not help the minuscule smile that crossed his face.  "Good girl."  

Turning the gauntlet over in his hand, he was not exactly sure how to use it.  He knew he would need to wear it in order to tap into its power, but otherwise, he was unsure of how to will it to do what he wanted.   

He was aware not only of Ilmr's gaze, cautious but trusting, but also those of Tony and Bruce, curious and untrusting.  Taking a quiet breath in, he slid the gauntlet on one hand.  It was remarkably light and gleamed in the bright light of the lab, each gem catching and casting the light on the walls.   

It crossed Loki's mind that, much like Thanos, he likely had no need to touch his subject to enact change upon them.  Turning his mind and gaze to Ilmr, he concentrated.  He focused on his memory of her, who she had been, silently willing the return of her mental faculties to the way they had been.   

There was no reaction.  At least, not at first. After a few minutes, he noticed Ilmr gripped the arms of the chair as hard as she could, knuckles going white.  Loki felt some sensation he couldn't quite place.  He hoped it was working.   

And then she began to thrash and tremble.   

"Hold her!"   

Loki was surprised to see both Banner and Stark react, but they did as he bid them and held her steady where she sat.  A sheen of sweat appeared on her skin and her breathing nearly reached the peak it did when she panicked.   

Ilmr began to whimper quietly.  Loki knew then; it _was_  working.  The Ilmr that had come back with him from Helheim would have released a heart-stopping scream.  The Ilmr he knew was far more stoic. 

It seemed to take ages.  Loki was hesitant to continue as her breathing grew more labored and beads of sweat rolled down her face.  He heard one of the pads on the chair's arm crack as she pulled it free of the wood.   

She was returning to him.   

He had promised she would come to no more harm.   

Finally, finally, she slumped in the chair and almost slid off as her legs weakened.  The two Avengers that had held her still shifted to prop her up.  Loki stepped forward and braced her himself, forcing the other two away.   

She leaned her head on his shoulder, her breath coming hard and quick against his neck.   

"Ilmr?"  He was loathe to hear her response, or worse, lack of response.   

" _That_  was decidedly hurtful."  She sounded as if she'd just run laps for Cuyler, voice light between breaths.  He felt her smile against his skin.  "But I think, this once, I'll forgive you." 

The sensation that bubbled and rose in his throat was unlike any he'd felt before.  It was relief, but also something else that he had no name for.  He squeezed her as tightly as he dared to himself.  It had been disorienting, to have her with him but yet missing.  He had not realized how used to her -how invested in her presence- he had become.   

"Can we have the Michael Jackson Glove of Universal Badassery now?"   

Loki turned his head to glare at the Man of Iron.  "Contact your Director Fury.  I wish to speak with him.  Only then will I relinquish the gauntlet." 

"I think you should just hand it over now." 

"You, as your compatriot has pointed out, have no authority to relay orders to or for S.H.I.E.L.D.  I would speak to your Director and have his word that by handing the gauntlet to him, I will commute my sentence."   

"Fine.  JARVIS, contact the one-eyed wonder." 

"Immediately, sir.  Shall I change his name in your contact list?" 

Stark cracked a smile.  "Why not?  Just don't tell him." 

"Of course not, sir." 

The Director's face popped up on a screen in the lab.  "Do I even want to know how you got my personal number?" 

"And your photos and texts.  And no." 

"Stark--" 

"--I have a present for you.  It's god-shaped and reminds me of failure." 

Fury's eyebrows shot up.  "How did you get a hold of Loki?" 

Loki breathed out hard through his nose.  He needed to be patient for just a short while longer - just long enough to clear his sentence.  He situated Ilmr carefully back in her chair before standing. 

"He wants to bargain with us.  You.  S.H.I.E.L.D." 

Fury gave the Man of Iron a dubious look.  "This is why you're on contract-basis, Tony.  That sentence right there.  He has _nothing_  that could possibl--" 

"--I have procured Thanos' weapon, the source of a great deal of the power he held."  Loki moved to stand in front of the screen displaying the Director's face.   

"Held?"  By the flare of the man's nostrils, Loki surmised he was barely holding it together himself.   

"I killed him."  Loki noticed out of the corner of his eye that though she seemed herself, she still shuddered at the mention of the Titan.   

Fury sat back from his screen, crossing his arms.  "I don't believe you.  When last I saw you, you were _working_  for him.  Why should I believe that you killed him?" 

Loki graced the Director with a grin that would have made a lesser man’s blood run cold.  To the Director’s credit, he merely raised an eyebrow.  He held up the gauntlet for Fury to see.  "There are six Infinity Gems contained within this item.  With it, Thanos was nearly omnipotent.  If you do not wish to have it, I will keep it for myself.  If, however, you and your agency would like it in your possession, you will excuse my crimes and leave me to my peace here." 

"Here? Oh, I don't think --" 

"--Oh, yeah, get this, Fury."  Stark pushed his way next to Loki.  "He _gave up_  living in Asgard to bring her back."  Tony nodded in Ilmr's direction as he spoke. "He can't go back _ever_." 

Loki ignored the look Ilmr shot him.  It seemed that though she had heard him say it several times, it had meant nothing to her when she did not have her wits.   

"Interesting." 

"You're telling me.  And let me tell you, that Michael Jackson Glove of his is for real.  We bring this in, R&D has a field day that lasts a decade.  There was nothing but howling madness where she's sitting now and half an hour with that thing and it's like it never even _happened_.  This thing's the real deal.  If he's offering, I say we--" 

"--Banner."  Fury cut Stark off.  "Tell me what I'm looking at." 

Picking at one hand, the man that contained the beast finally spoke.  "I couldn't say exactly, but I do know you want it out of his hands as soon as possible.  The only reason he hasn't used it yet was because he was distraught.  Now that she's well, it’s only a matter of time.  I'm not sure what it uses to do what it does, but," he threw Loki a veiled glance before looking back to the screen, "I would suggest you take the gauntlet and agree to let him go free if he shows us how to use it." 

"In writing."  Ilmr's voice, now that she was no longer under such physical duress, was hoarse but hers.   

"What was that?"  Fury sat forward, trying to locate the voice.  

She glanced to Loki before looking back to Fury though the man couldn't see her from where she sat.  "I said if you both agree to this, you'll agree to it in writing." 

Fury gave a wry smile.  The man had clearly hoped Loki would forget such a detail.  Loki wasn't sure he would have, but he was grateful nonetheless.  After several moments of contemplation, Fury nodded.  "In writing.  We drop all charges and leave you to your life -your _quiet_  life- here.  _If_  you hand the item over and show us how to use it." 

Loki hesitated.  He had the gauntlet.  Thanos was dead.  He had restored Ilmr.  He could not go to Asgard, but that still left him the rest of the Nine Realms and beyond.   

But with the gauntlet, so much could be changed.  So much could be made different so that he and Ilmr could be on the throne of Asgard and it would have been as if none of what happened had happened. 

Except for Death.  She who never forgot, she who always watched and waited from the shadows.  No matter where they ran, no matter _when_  they ran, she would be watching.  He could never return to Asgard.  The power of the gauntlet could only do so much, and against Mistress Death, it fell short.   

Loki nodded.  "I accept." 

"Good."  Fury glanced to Stark, who still stood beside Loki.  "Bring him in."  With that, the screen went dark. 

Tony turned to face Loki.  Loki could see Ilmr tense.  

"I can't promise they won't put you in handcuffs when we get there, but for now, consider it an investment in our relationship that I won't make you walk out of here in them." 

Loki lifted a brow.  "Our relationship?"  He tried not to look disgusted and failed. 

"Do yourself a favor and see that I'd be an ally, while you're stuck here." 

Loki sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.  When he met Stark's gaze again, he had plastered a smile on his face that was clearly unsettling for Stark to see. "Is this not better?" 

"It might actually be worse.  Bruce!  Bruce, you're coming with us."  Tony whirled around until he saw the other man.   

"I'm not sure I should." 

"Oh no, I need backup." 

"You will not require the sort of 'backup' he would provide."

Both Tony and Bruce turned to look at him.   

Loki motioned to Ilmr.  "She is not well enough that I would contemplate provoking the Hulk." 

Tony gave a low whistle.  "Like I said, in deep.  JARVIS, have a car ready, we'll be down in ten." 

"Certainly, sir."   

Though he despised the Man of Iron, he was nonetheless fascinated with the technology he possessed.  It bordered on magic, to Loki. 

Ilmr stood to follow Stark and, as though she were a newborn fawn, her legs nearly gave out.  She caught herself against the chair she had been in, though Loki knew she could feel the arm he had snaked around her waist.   

"I can walk."  Still hoarse.  And miraculously herself again.   

Loki couldn't check a small smile.  "You will recover faster if you allow me to assist you, and I suspect you would not want to require my assistance once we are facing the S.H.I.E.L.D. Director." 

She allowed him to hoist her upright at that, keeping his arm around her waist and taking on the bulk of her weight while she carefully walked with him towards the hall Tony Stark had disappeared down.  

 

 


	20. Chapter 20 - Impressions

**Chapter Twenty – Impressions**

 

A/N:  Are you having fun with the AU so far?  No huge departures just yet (many of those will be in the sequel), but I thought I’d ask to get a gauge on how people are enjoying the alternate universe stuff so far. Let me know!  Lyrics this chapter are from Florence and the Machine’s “What the Water Gave Me”.  This chapter switches perspectives five times, starting with Loki the switching to Ilmr (then Loki, Ilmr and finally Loki).  Each switch is indicated by a double page break. 

And apologies for the slightly delayed posting. I’m transitioning into a higher position at work so I’ve been doing my old job, my new job, and working on hiring someone. So the past few weeks, but especially this past week, have been crazy. Thanks for your patience!

 

 

_You couldn't have it any other way_  
 _‘Cause she’s a cruel mistress  
_ _And a bargain must be made_

  

It did not take long to reach the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility.  Though she still needed some assistance, Loki could tell Ilmr was already recovering, opting to take his arm rather than lean against him. 

"Look at you, Bambi, you found your legs!"  Tony smiled wide as he led them into the building.   

As soon as Loki stepped foot inside, he found himself -and Ilmr- surrounded by a number of agents, weapons drawn and aimed.   

"Better let me take it from here, they seem pretty interested in you."  When Loki didn't budge, Stark tried again.  "Seriously, she'll be safer with me, some of these guys are pretty trigger-happy." 

Hesitantly, very, very hesitantly, Loki allowed Stark to assist Ilmr.  He himself walked ahead, surrounded by a dozen S.H.I.E.L.D. agents.  

After a most circuitous route, they arrived in a long, slender room with a large oval table, several chairs surrounding it.  Fury was seated already and did not bother to rise when they entered.   

He never thought he would be, but Loki found himself grateful for Stark's careful, entirely unexpected gentleness with Ilmr.  He sat her carefully in a chair next to Loki despite her protestations that she could do so herself, and seemed to generally fuss and be sure she was truly well before thinking of sitting himself.   

By the look of the Director, it seemed he too found Stark's behavior to be uncharacteristic.   

"Tony, sit _down_." 

He held a hand out in Ilmr's direction. "Oh come on, Nick."  Loki did not miss the wide grin Stark flashed at Fury's disapproval of the use of his first name. "She just got her brain reshuffled.  Give her a break.  Besides, she helped _us_." 

"And then she kept _us_  from doling out the appropriate punishment for his actions."  Fury gave her a look.  "Iron Man might be impressed.  I'm not." 

The cool, level gaze she fixed Fury with gave Loki the sensation of laughter bubbling in his chest.  She had returned to him.  She was well and truly herself again.   

"Fortunately, Director Fury, I was not hoping to have impressed you.  I sought to protect my husband and my hounds from your organization and I did so."  Still hoarse, Loki noted, but decidedly better. 

"Protect him from us?"  Fury glanced to Tony.  "You're sure she was in New York?" 

Stark nodded.  "Oh, this is her all right."  He cracked a smile.  "She's sassy." 

Ilmr glanced to one of the agents still minding Loki.  "I require tea."  She had used the tone he had heard only a few times that garnered an instant reaction from those in the armed forces. She glanced back to Fury, not needing to look to know the man had gone to do as she requested.  Loki never could decide if it was the reflex to obey orders on the part of the soldier, or something decidedly elvish about Ilmr in the same way she was gifted with animals. 

Tony cut her off.  "Now _that_  is a neat trick."

Ilmr graced him with a small smile before continuing, her voice returning to the calm, dispassionate tone Loki had heard her use with Cuyler.  "Yes, Director, protect him from you.  You worked with the Tesseract, from what I understand from Thor.  You know of the power it contained.  I also know of the torture he endured."  Loki did not see, but rather felt, her suppress a shudder her best.  "I have experienced the same torture."  She gave Fury a measured look that Loki could not quite read.  "I would suspect, given your rank and line of duty, you too have experienced something similar, at one point or another, yes?"   

Loki noticed Stark's eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline as the Director, reluctantly, nodded.  His greatest weapon.  She had returned to him.   

"Then you know how deeply such a thing affects you,  _changes_ you, even for a short time.  Such was the case with Loki.  I brought him back to Asgard to ensure his wellness.  Your people would have locked him in a cage and delighted in his descent into madness." 

"I never tried to take over an entire planet.  Nor, might I point out, did you." 

"That was never my purpose, when it came to the Titan.  My purpose was only to serve as a vehicle for his vengeance."   

She hesitated only slightly, Loki still made note of it. She stood, though, and shed the jacket Loki had dressed her in, revealing the sleeveless shirt underneath.   

He heard Stark take in a sharp breath at the sight.  Her arms were covered in the sometimes jagged, sometimes swirling scars that near covered her body.  She did not seemed to remember much of anything she had heard while she had been entirely mad, but it seemed she remembered many, many other things, Loki realized.    

Fury did not bat an eyelash, but he did look away after several moments.  Ilmr ignored the tea that was set near her place at the table until she shrugged her jacket back on. 

"Do you understand now? The Titan did to his mind what he did to mine and my body.  He served an entirely different purpose than I.  And I would not have left him with your people for all of the riches in the Nine Realms.  I was protecting him from you.  So excuse me, Director, for my lack of interest in whether I _impress_  you.  I neither care for nor need your admiration.  You may intimidate your recruits and your Avengers, you do not intimidate or  _impress_ me." 

Aside from the few moments of emphasis, her voice had remained free of emotion, speaking as though she were discussing the weather. 

Loki noted the uncomfortable shift of the agents that surrounded him, even in Stark.  Apparently, none spoke to Fury in that way.  Loki remembered he did not have much impact on the man, when aboard their flying fortress.  He did not anticipate Ilmr having much influence.   

Fury exhaled hard through his nose.  After a tense silence, he shifted his gaze to Loki.  "It seems to me that she's the one with the silver tongue." 

" _No. Way._ "  Eyes turned towards Stark. Elvish, Loki decided. Just as she had a way with the birds and beasts as many of her kin, so did she seem to have an innate ability with beasts of the mortal variety. 

Fury continued.  "What is this _item_  you mentioned?" 

"I would see a contract first." 

Fury pushed a document towards Loki at his demand, pages lifting slightly as it slid across the table.  "Your signature is required at the bottom of the third page to complete the agreement." 

Loki glanced at it, allowing Ilmr to read over his shoulder.  There were no words he did not understand, but the context left him at a loss, in some places.  It was not an agreement such that he was particularly used to.  "You will grant us leave of your facility's library and two hours' time." 

Fury scoffed.  "I will do no such thing." 

"Then he will not sign it."  Ilmr sat back.   

"The contract doesn't concern you."   

"Oh, but it does, Director.  You will grant us the time to understand the document in its entirety before signing it." 

"Do you want a job?  I so have a job for you."  Stark cut in. 

"Tony, _get out_."  The Director all but growled and again though he did not see it, Loki could sense Ilmr shudder.   

Instead, Stark shut his mouth.   

Fury and Ilmr stared one another down.  Loki had seen this play out before. Though the Director was formidable, he knew how it would end, when it ended.   

Several minutes later, Fury sighed.  "Fine.  Two hours."  He glanced to two of the agents as he stood to leave.  "Escort them to the library."  The Director turned at the door.  "And if you plan to take Stark up on his offer, let us know.  We have a job for you, too." 

With that, the Director took his leave of them.   

***** 

Little more than two hours later, Loki watched expressionless as Fury returned to the room in which they had first met.  He and Ilmr had returned shortly before hand.   

The contract had been watertight.  The provisions were many.  His crimes would be forgiven, his sentence commuted.  But he had to hand over the gauntlet, and show S.H.I.E.L.D. how to use it.  He was required to keep a low profile; Loki assumed this meant no actions that would violate any Midgardian laws.  If he did, the contract was clear that he would be sent, in chains, back to Asgard.  Though Loki suspected he and Ilmr would be dead before the Bifrost closed.   

Fury held out a pen.  Before Loki could speak, Ilmr did. 

"I wish to make an amendment." 

Fury looked to Ilmr as though he were trying his best to contain himself. 

"There is no provision in the document promising that we will be left alone.  There are many, _many_  ensuring that he stay well within the bounds of the laws of your realm.  There are none that require _you_  to do the same.  To leave us to our peace." 

Loki smiled.  "She speaks true; there is no such provision and I would require one.  To ensure not only my safety, but her safety and that of our hounds." 

"None of our lawyers are at this facility." 

Loki scowled, unmoved.  "Then you best have your men bring one of them in."  He sat back in his seat, resting his hand on Ilmr's thigh.  "We can wait."   

It had been so long since he had done such a thing.  Before he fell into the abyss, Loki surmised.  It felt like second nature.  It felt good.  It made him feel good.   

Fury growled and had Loki not had his hand on her thigh, he doubted he would have noticed Ilmr's shudder that time.  She had returned to him, but still carried the damage done to her by the Titan.   

"And I would appreciate it if you could better control your temper."  Loki glanced up as the Director passed them, meeting his gaze.  "I do not enjoy watching my wife suffer for your impatience." 

Fury stormed out as if he hadn't heard Loki.  

"You gave up Asgard."  She spoke very quietly.  If not for the hoarseness, it would have been her velvet.  He had missed that sound, he realized. 

"Yes." 

She regarded him a long time.  Eventually, in her same hoarse velvet: "I am important to you." 

Loki nodded once.  "Yes.  As I am to you." 

"Yes." 

Fury returned.  "The lawyer will be here in three hours.  I suggest you find a way to entertain yourselves here until then." 

Just as the Director reached the door, Ilmr spoke.  "Teach me how to use your machines."   

She was not asking. 

"What?"  Fury turned slowly on his heel. 

"Teach me how to use your _computers_ and your _guns,_ as you call them.  You say both you and the Man of Iron have duties I could easily take on.  They will both likely require use of your machines, if I choose to accept.  I would have your people teach me how to use the machines I would see each day." 

Fury breathed out through his nose, glancing to Loki. 

"You see difficulty. For me, it is why I chose to marry her." 

Nodding once, Fury spoke.  "I'll have an agent come down.  And you’d use a gun more often than not.  We’ll teach you that if you sign on with us."  Before leaving, he turned to glower at Ilmr.  "Do _not_  make me regret this choice." 

She smiled too sweetly to be sweet.  "Should I choose the Man of Iron over you, it would be my own decision." 

Fury again looked to Loki, eyebrow raised.  " _This_  was in the "pros" column?"

"I'm not familiar with the colloquialism.  But yes, her use of such a tone with perceived authority was something I was glad of." 

"I can't imagine why." 

WIth that, Fury was gone. 

***** 

A squirrely young agent was sent down shortly thereafter, two slim machines in hand.   

"Eel -eel-mir?" 

The Man of Iron who had since rejoined them, likely at Fury's behest, tried not to giggle at the butchering of her name.   

"Ilmr.  Yes."  She was unfazed. 

Loki watched her motion the young man over gently.  He realized he had never seen her interact with young recruits much.  He had seen her with superiors, peers and those recruits she dealt when he was imprisoned, but he hadn't seen her, at leisure, with recruits of lesser rank.   

The young man conspicuously did not look at Loki and placed himself on Ilmr's other side.  "Here.  It's a PC.  -A computer." 

"That's what you call them, "PC"s?" 

"Yeah. -No.  I mean, there are a lot of types.  It just means "personal computer".  This type is an HP." He tapped the image on the back of the machine.  "But there are a lot of types." 

"I see." 

The young agent declared he would show her _the basics_  and took her through a half hour or more of what sounded to Loki to be general use and how it worked.  It seemed like she was picking up the information quickly.  What she didn't understand and what the agent had trouble articulating, she was patient with.   

"What do you do best?"  It seemed _the basics_  had been covered. "I don't know what sort of accounting systems they had in Asgard, but maybe something with finances, or politics, or something administra--" 

"--I am a warrior.  I was Commander in one of the kingdoms of Vanaheim and I was rising in rank in Asgard's forces." 

"Oh. I -Oh.  Okay.  Well, I'm not sure what..." the young man, the _boy_  as far as Loki could tell, glanced to Stark.  "...What the Director wanted me to show you." 

Stark sighed, motioning for the boy's computer.  "Go tell Fury I have this under control.  And to send someone less terrified next time." 

The agent ducked his head, but rose to leave.  At the door, he turned back.  "Is it true?" 

Ilmr raised a brow.  "Is what true?"  She sounded at once as though she knew what the question would be, but yet was still patient.   

"You married..."  He did not finish his sentence.   

She smiled, nodded.  Went so far as to place a hand over Loki's.  "Yes.  It is true." 

"But you seem so... _nice_." 

Ilmr smiled indulgently.  "I have much of the same blood on my hands." 

That seemed to spook him most of all, earning only a nod as the boy hurried to make his exit.   

"So you're both super crazy?  No wonder you got hitched."  Stark was typing away at the computer he had commandeered.   

"There is much of our shared history you are ignorant of.  I would not have you treat it so blithely.  If you wish to properly compete for the use of my skills, you would do well to remember to be more respectful and less flippant." 

Tony raised his eyebrows at her tone, glancing to Loki.  "Seriously, I could use her way better than Fury.  Where did you find her?" 

"I did not.  She journeyed to Asgard and begged leave of Odin to join the realm's forces." 

He felt Ilmr's hand on his forearm.  He missed her touch though he was not sure he would ever admit such to her.  When she spoke, however, it was to Stark.  "I believe a meal would be appropriate, once we are through with the lawyer." 

Loki watched Stark nod a couple times, slowly smiling wide.  "Alright.  Yeah, let's do that.  I can wait that long." 

Fury returned a handful of minutes later.  "Stark, when I send one of _my_  agents in, you don't order him out." 

Stark waved a hand in Fury's direction, not even looking up from the computer.  "He was terrified and didn't know what he was doing." 

"He's one of my most skilled technicians."  Fury glowered. 

The Man of Iron's eyebrows rose.  "Him?  He was spooked by her and she was all Mr. Rogers and sunshine to him.   _And_  he had no idea what you wanted her to learn."  Stark gave the Director a smug smile.  "Good thing your contract employee does." 

*****

The lawyer was far later than anticipated.  Far later than they had been told to anticipate, at least.  Loki suspected Fury intended to try and wait them out.   

He did not succeed. 

Four hours later after much further negotiation, Loki found himself leaving the facility relieved of the gauntlet and his sentence, with a contracted promise that he would be left in peace.   

Provided he made no move in his lifetime that would endanger Midgard in any way, directly or indirectly. 

It was strange, to be walking free and straight into the vehicle the Man of Iron indicated.  

The Man of Iron chose an establishment that reminded Loki of why he had chosen Tony Stark to begin with.  Though vexing, he had impeccable taste.  They arrived at an elegant, quiet place where a servant whisked the three of them off to a private section the moment she saw Stark's face.   

"Some water and three of your appetizers.  Any three.  Doesn't matter.  Just get them here quickly.  Thanks."  Stark turned his smile on Loki and Ilmr.  "You need something to eat." 

Loki was not sure why he was so cordial to Ilmr, but it raised his ire.   

"My thanks." 

"So you have blood on your hands, huh?"   

Placing a hand on her thigh, Loki discreetly circled his hand just above the tabletop once.   

Ilmr waited to see his nod before she spoke.  "Yes. As Loki mentioned, I journeyed to Asgard and won a place among its warriors.  We did not see eye to eye at first, he and I, but once we did, we felt that our goals were mutually beneficial and so joined together under the guise of courtship." 

Loki felt the corner of his mouth twitch in a small smile when she glossed over their first interactions.   

"Let me guess, he was going to be king, and you originally wanted Malibu Beach Ken." 

Ilmr furrowed her brow.  "I'm not sure of your reference.  Loki wished to rule Asgard, yes.  I wished to command its forces." 

"So what now?" Loki felt Stark's gaze fall to him and sharpen.  "Wait, why?" 

"Why what?" 

"First, why are you so willing to talk?  Second, why go to all the trouble?  You said yourself: you can't go back to Asgard or you'll both die, but if she wants to she can.  Why bring her back if she's no good to you anymore?"

Loki ran his tongue along his teeth before opening his mouth to speak.  "Did you not mention yourself that I was, to use your phrasing, _in deep_?  And we are speaking freely because no one can hear us." 

"You just voodoo-ed us some soundproof invisible walls?  You're like a real life Sanderson sister.  Brother.  Whatever."  Stark smiled wide.  "And I guess I did say you were in deep."  He turned to Ilmr.  "What about you, are you in that deep?" 

Stark did not sense him tense, but Ilmr did, and she shifted just enough so that their knees touched.  "I'm not sure I understand.  In where deep?" 

"He can't go back to Asgard, _ever,_  but you can, whenever you want.  Will you, or will Thor not let you run the show because you helped the renegade son over here?" 

"Thor does not know of my part in this." 

Tony sat back.  It was the first time Loki had ever seen him speechless, though he wished such times would become more frequent.   

"Wait, he has no idea, _none,_  that you've been on Loki's side this whole time?" 

"No.  Thor believes that I acted the way I did to save his brother from himself.  He does not know Loki was never lost to me, that I acted as I did in New York to keep Loki safe from Asgard and Odin, not because I was on Thor's _side_ , as you put it.  I helped Loki plot the initial slight that set everything afterward in motion.  Thor does not know I had a hand in that, and that was strategic." 

"You and Romanov could have, like, the best two-woman Charlie's Angels team _ever_.  -But why tell me any of this?  I mean, I asked, sure, but why aren't you lying?  Isn't that what he does best?  Did he not teach you?" 

Loki was too infuriated to respond, settling instead for clenching his teeth near cracking.   

"He is adept at both the telling and detecting of lies.  I am telling you all of this because you will not tell Thor." Loki smiled watching Ilmr silence Stark with the simple raising of a hand.  "You will not tell Thor, not because I ask you not to, but because you are too intrigued by both the power Loki possesses and our hounds."  She allowed herself a small, tired smile.  "And my skills." 

Stark took a sip of his water and smiled as the dishes he requested arrived. He immediately ordered alcohol as well.  Loki glanced over the dishes and recognized none of them.   

"Do you not like raw oysters?"  As if to demonstrate how to eat them, Loki watched Stark tip a shell in his mouth and upend the creature within.  With a wide smile, Stark swallowed.  "They're delicious."  He motioned to the two other dishes.  "Foie Gras and ...that looks like chicken.  Whatever it is, it's delicious. I have yet to eat here and not enjoy myself." 

Loki watched Ilmr pile a small plate full of food. 

"Jesus, we're going to order more, don't go crazy." 

Ilmr smiled.  "I'm not, Mr. Stark.  I am famished and given the amount of food I used to eat, this will not impede my ability to eat another course." 

Stark blinked.  "Right.  So, your skills.  And not telling Thor.  I'm not good at keeping secrets." 

"If you wish to employ my skills, you will learn to be." 

"Why not work for S.H.I.E.L.D. then?" 

"Because I do not trust them." 

Stark sat back.  "But you trust me." 

"No."  Ilmr gave a wry smile.  "But I trust them less." 

Stark cracked a grin.  "When would you like to start?" 

Loki watched Ilmr chew thoughtfully, making Stark wait under her gaze until she was ready to speak.  "I would see a contract and what you would perceive my duties to be.  I would also request a fortnight of time to recover."   

Stark opened his mouth to speak and Ilmr interrupted him. 

"Would this work require our relocation to New York City?"  Her distaste was so plainly writ on her features that Stark laughed. 

"You could commute. Take the train in, once you get to a train station."  He hesitated.  "You'll need to learn to drive." 

She scoffed.  "I will not learn to navigate one of your metal deathtraps." 

"You could relocate, but I don't get the feeling you like New York.  But if you relocated, you could live in the Tower.  Have a whole floor to yourselves, there'd be plenty of roo--"

"No.  I would prefer this commuting.  I would not move back to that city for any reason." 

Stark merely nodded.  "I'll have Pepper get her assistant to get a description written up and get you a pass for the LIRR."  He rolled his eyes at the blank look Loki realized both he and Ilmr gave Stark.  "The train." 

Ilmr nodded and turned to the servant that appeared beside their table, ordering an amount of food that had Stark looking her over in disbelief. 

She had returned to him. 

***** 

She had returned to him, but still carried the damage done to her by the Titan.  Loki had seen hints of this throughout the day, but saw its extent when he awoke that night to her bloodcurdling scream.   

Though her eyes were wide and wild, he was able to reach her. 

"Ilmr.  Ilmr, it is not true.  It is in your mind."  Despite the dark he could see the whites of her eyes all around.  He carefully took her face in his hands and the sensation seemed to anchor her and her eyes focused on him.  "You are safe, Ilmr." 

She seemed to be deciding whether it was true but after a long moment she leaned closer until she was tucked in against him.  She trembled against him and did not speak.  Loki was unsure of what to do and after several minutes when no other solution presented itself, he settled his arms around her.   

He thought Ilmr had fallen back to sleep she had been silent so long, but she eventually spoke, her voice so low it was nearly her velvet if not for the tremor in her voice that Loki could tell she was desperately trying to control. 

"I do not know if I will ever truly be myself again.  I feel much like I did, think similarly, and yet I am unsettled.  My mind does not feel as though it is my own entirely and my skin -you have seen it.  I do not believe that will ever change.  I believe I will always carry that.  He is gone, but I do not believe I will ever escape him." 

Loki sighed, not realizing he had dropped a kiss on the top of her head until after the fact.  "Nor will I.  It has lessened, with time, as I suspect it will for you.  As for the scarring, I will do what I can to rid you of it." 

"I do not wish to be reminded of him each day, in that way.  That is all."  She hurried to clarify. 

Loki merely nodded.  "I know, Ilmr."  Her shaking had lessened some and he gathered her closer, knowing it would likely help further.  "Sleep now." 

It took longer than he anticipated, but she eventually fell back into slumber.   

*****  
***** 

She woke with a start to sunlight and the sensation of tight restriction.  For a moment, Ilmr thought to struggle until she realized it was Loki's arms that held her fast, her back to his chest.   

With a shuddering breath she willed herself to relax, to focus on his even breath in her hair.  Her mind was intact, she knew, everything in its place as she sifted through her memories.   

Snaked around the edges of her mind however, in the peripherals of her vision, was a darkness: terrifying and that, if she concentrated on it, she knew would drag a scream unbidden from her lips.   

Ilmr kept her mouth shut and thought instead about Tony Stark and his offer.  If she and Loki were to be stuck on Midgard, she had realized, she would need something to take up her time.  He would as well, but she was unsure what he would wish to do, and if he would be safe in a similar situation.   

"I fear I will never grow accustomed to how early you rise."  His voice was rough and low from sleep. 

"Then stay abed, I'm famished."  She smiled slightly. "I'll even leave some food for you." 

With a quiet groan and a gentle squeeze, Loki released her and stretched.  In one fluid move he rose, tugging on trousers and flashing her a quick, small grin.  "You still need to rest, you might not feel it yet, but you are still weakened.  The more you rest, the sooner you will be back to yourself." 

It raised Ilmr's ire.  She did not speak.  She _was_  weakened and she was loathe to face it.  She watched Loki move into the kitchen and she heard rather soon the sound of something sizzling, many cupboards opening and closing.  Quiet curses punctuated the silence every few minutes and eventually piqued Ilmr's curiosity enough that she pulled a tunic of his over her head and donned a pair of trousers before she padded into the kitchen.   

Loki had settled on omelets, toast and was currently cutting up various fruits and tossing them into two small bowls, layering them with yoghurt.  Sidling up next to him, Ilmr started the kettle before settling into a chair at the table to watch him.   

He had brought her back to herself, she knew, but she did not remember much of her insanity, merely the panic and loud, unending, terrifying screaming that had filled her mind at all hours.  It was bad enough, she surmised, that he was acting as he was; the sort of care and comfort she remembered seeing often with Fenrir but that she did not see quite as often for no other reason than she had not needed it. 

She glanced down to her hands and stilled.  Her right wrist had a four-inch raised scar.  She had not noticed it before and Ilmr was unsure how that was possible.  Ilmr also noticed, as she carefully ran her fingers over the scar, that she was missing her ring that Loki had given her.   

A tightness appeared in her chest at that realization, troubled her more than the scar on her wrist that she knew was new and likely of her own doing in her madness.   

A shift in her peripherals made her jump.  Loki stood before her, plates in hand and a troubled look on his face.  He set two plates in front of her and returned with his, and finally their tea.  Ilmr felt his eyes on her and though hungry, she made no move to eat.   

"Ilmr."   

She met his gaze, giving him a small, sad smile, tilting her head in the direction of her left hand.  "My ring.  The Titan relieved me of it, it seems." 

Loki said nothing, instead rising and returning to their chambers.  He returned presently, sitting beside her again and opening his hand.  Inside, was her ring.   

"I returned the favor."   

It was not in her nature, but nonetheless Ilmr found herself hurrying to embrace him in her delight.  "I thought it gone for good."  She kept her voice quiet so as to keep it level. 

Again, to her surprise, he was more doting than he had been previously, running a hand through her hair and down her back.  He said nothing for several long moments, finally leaning back from her.  He searched her eyes before finally speaking.  "It will be difficult, but you will feel like yourself again, in time." 

Ilmr could only nod, sliding the ring back onto her finger.  She felt more herself, then.   

***** 

A sleek, black vehicle stopped in front of their home; what must have been one of Stark's servants exited, parchment in hand.   

After so long, it was hard to remove Vidar from her side and truly Ilmr did not want him far, either.  He could not know what transpired, of course, but he seemed far more wary of those he did not know.  Fenrir was more on-guard as well and usually set himself down somewhere nearby, keeping her in his line of sight, but Vidar would often match her step-for-step.   

As such, a deep rumble emanated from him as they watched the strange servant approach through the front window. 

Ilmr opened the door before he could knock. 

"Uh - Ilmr?" 

She nodded.  "Yes." 

He held the thick parchment out.  "I'm Happy.  Head of Security for Stark Industries.  Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts wanted me to deliver this to you."  He gave a nervous smile and glance to Vidar, who was growling low, but sitting beside her.   

"My thanks, Happy.  When would they like a response?" 

"When I get back." 

Ilmr sighed, turning slightly and motioning to the interior of the house.  "Please, come in.  I must take some time to review this." 

Happy made no motion to move into the house until she had ordered Vidar, and Fenrir, who had by then appeared in the hallway behind them, out of the way.   

"They're huge.  What sort of dogs are those?"  He took care to keep Ilmr between himself and the hounds where they lay in the den.   

Ilmr began to boil water. "Wolfhounds."  Happy knew much, she surmised, but she was unwilling to reveal their true heritage. 

He nodded.  "Oh.  Where's your, uh, husband?" 

Ilmr smiled, sitting herself across from Happy as she opened the parchment.  Inside were several sheaves of paper and a thin device that she recognized as similar to the one –the phone- Stark owned.  "I know not.  He will return by nightfall; long after you have taken your leave, I would imagine." 

It seemed the details of the duties, should she accept, would run a wide range: she would be on-hand at times as a personal guard to Ms. Potts or Tony himself, but would also have a hand in various negotiations. She would train his security.  She did not read through the entire list; it was clear before the end of the first page that _commuting_  would not be a possibility. 

"I would use your telephone."  Ilmr held out her hand.   

"My -my phone? My cell phone?"  Happy hesitated. 

"Yes. Contact Mr. Stark immediately." 

He did, and held the phone to her. 

"Happy, hey! How'd it go? What'd she--" 

"--There is no feasible way for me to complete these duties if I were to commute, and you know it." 

"Ilmr, hey!" She heard Stark laugh.  "Come on, I thought you'd like the sound of it." 

"I do.  It's New York that I despise." 

"Oh come on, you don't have cities in Asgard or...wherever it is you're from?" 

"There are cities; many of them.  None as foul or ill-cared-for as New York.  To watch the abuse your people pile on the city is unbearable." 

"I could give you a seat on one of our advisory boards; GreenStreets is a project I'm launching to help clean up the city: the literal and figurative trash that litters the city and helping to green up the place as a whole." 

"Advisory board.  Similar to a council, yes?" 

"Yeah, pretty much.  The people that make the decisions." 

"And who acts on those decisions?" 

"It'd be a huge team of people; some organizing events and actual clean ups, some doing the clean up.  Some enacting green-ing measures with the arc reactor technology - a bunch of people." 

"I do not understand all of what you mention, but you would grant me a place to help decide what actions to take to enact the changes to make the city bearable?" 

"Yeah." 

"You would have us live in your Tower." 

"Yeah.  We'd give you your own floor.  Mostly because no one wants to be that close to your Abominable Snoki." 

"And our hounds?" 

"The floor is yours to do what you want.  Within reason." 

"I will contact you tomorrow."   

Ilmr held the phone to Happy who took it, flustered.  She watched him watch her for a minute before he finally spoke.  "Oh, you -that's -I'll just--" 

Ilmr smiled.  "Yes, we're done for now.  I will contact Mr. Stark on the morrow." 

Happy glanced around.  "How?"

Reaching into the parcel, Ilmr held out the device she had seen inside.  "I believe this is the same sort of thing that you possess, is it not?" 

He raised an eyebrow.  "Do you know how to use it?" 

Ilmr shook her head.  "No, but I'm sure I will find out; S.H.I.E.L.D. taught me how to use those _computer_  devices.  I assume this is similar." 

"Pretty much, yeah." 

She nodded.  "Excellent.” She held the device to Happy. “Program Mr. Stark’s contact information in it.  I will contact him tomorrow." 

Happy did, and showed himself out. 

*****  
***** 

“So she has no idea you’re here?” Stark was gloating a bit too much for Loki’s liking. 

“Correct.” 

“So why _are_ you here, Secret Agent Man?  What can’t the little woman know?” 

“I was able to heal many of her injuries, but I was unable to heal some of the scarring.” 

“Some?  That was some?” 

Loki approached the Man of Iron, two fingers extended towards his temple. 

“Don’t!”  Stark held out a hand.  “I saw it once already.” 

“No, you did not.  You saw the inside of her mind.  You have not seen what I saw when I found her.  To understand, you must.” 

Stark groaned.  “Do you do anything the easy way?  Ever?” 

Loki pressed his fingers to Stark’s temple. “Not typically.” 

After only a few moments, Stark jerked away from Loki’s hand.  He was ashen. “ _That_ was how you found her with Thanos?” 

Loki nodded.

“Jesus.  No wonder she died.  You fixed all that?” 

“Much of it, yes.  Save for some of the scarring.  The scars that remain are from injuries sustained from iron.” 

Tony’s brow furrowed.  “What, is that some sort of …allergy or something?” 

“No.  She is half-elven, half-Vanirian.  Iron will kill an elf if the injury is bad enough, or scar it badly if not. As she is half-elven, while the effect is not as pronounced, she nonetheless is effected by it, as you have seen.” 

“And?” 

“And I am unable to heal the scars. For all that I was able to heal her of her injuries, those were ones I could not.  If there is any capability in Midgard to so heal those wounds, you will either have the device, or know who does.” 

Stark ran a hand through his hair, leaning his elbows on his knees. “What you’re talking about is a _lot_ of plastic surgery. Which will leave scars of it’s own. Probably.  Maybe?  I don’t know. Skin grafts, maybe.” He groaned. “Let me think about it. I’m an engineer, not a doctor. I need to talk to a doctor.” 

Loki nodded. 

“Why couldn’t she know you were here for that?” 

Loki shrugged.  “She is ashamed of them.  I have told her I would find a way, and I will, but while I’ve mended her mind, it is still a delicate, fragile thing.  The less she is worried over, the better.” 

Tony’s eyebrows reached for his hairline. “Wow.  You’re deceptively good at this whole…caring thing. When did that happen?” 

Loki’s face grew stony.  “I have not spent my existence bitter and hateful. Mischievous, yes. Deceitful, at times. But I was not always hard-hearted and hateful, bitter and unyielding.” 

“So what, you found out you were adopted and it sent you off the deep end?” 

Loki raised an eyebrow at the reference. 

“Sorry.  Sort of.” 

Regarding him quietly, Loki waited until Stark was sufficiently antsy before speaking again.  “I know how you felt, about your father.”  Loki held up a hand.  “Any fool can deduce as much, reading articles and your file.  S.H.I.E.L.D. is not so secure as one would imagine. Much as you felt you lived in the shadow of your father, as his second thought, if he thought of you at all, so I felt to Thor.” 

“Maybe, but I never went on a rampage.” 

“You never discovered your heritage to be of the same creatures you were taught for a millennia to fear and loathe.” 

Stark made a sound of assent. 

“Think, and let me know how best to heal these last wounds.” 

Before he could take his leave, Stark stopped him. “Hold on.  I’m trying to get her to work for me.  What will you do, now that you’re stuck here?” 

“I had not thought on it.” 

In truth, he hadn’t.  It only reminded him that he was stuck in Midgard.  He did not regret the choice, merely their current place of residence.  

Stark made a circular motion with his hand, mimicking what Loki had done during the meal they had shared.  Nodding, Loki created a soundproof barrier around himself and the Man of Iron. 

“Hear me out.  If she accepts, you’d need to move in here.” 

Loki growled at the thought. 

“But! But, that means an opportunity to get S.H.I.E.L.D. off your back.” 

“I thought I had already gotten them ‘off my back.’” Loki’s mood was quickly souring. 

“They may be keeping a distance, but they have eyes and ears all over you.  Even here. If you want them to back off, do some healing work for me.  They’ll see it and eventually hire you on a contract basis.” 

“You’re assuming I wish to work for either of you. Which I do not.” 

“No, but you do want to keep her safe, and you’ll do it for pretty high costs, too.” 

“I have already signed an agreement with S.H.I.E.L.D.” 

“Do they _really_ seem like the sort of people to uphold their end of a contract? Come on, Jolly Green Giant. I thought you were smarter than that.” 

“I shall make them indebted to me, you mean.” 

“It’ll do Fury’s heart good to owe someone for once. And they know now you have a weakness. Well, another one.” Stark couldn’t help himself, he smirked and Loki nearly wiped it off his face for him.  “And you could stand to do something to make it a more level playing field.” 

Loki nodded but kept silent, as Tony’s phone rang. 

"Happy, hey! How'd it go? What'd she--" 

It was several minutes, but it did not sound like it was the person Tony had been expecting.  

When Stark hung up, he was grinning wide. “That woman of yours is feisty. Especially considering she just had her brain reshuffled like a deck of cards.” 

“She is remarkably hearty.” 

“Oh come _on_. That is the lamest thing you could have possibly said.  You couldn’t have called her a badass?” 

Loki’s face darkened.  “You would do well to speak better of her. And her backside is not—“ 

Stark’s uproarious laughter cut Loki off. “No! No, no.  No.  That’s not – that’s not what that means.  As in, she’s awesome. Oh man.”  Tony wiped an eye.  “Oh, god. No, I know she has a nice ass. What, do you think I’m blind?” 

Loki growled.  “And yet you are still not speaking well of her.” 

“You better get used to it.  Moving here will mean she’ll get... _compliments_ way worse than that.” 

He could not help the disgust that crossed his face. “Are the men of Midgard not taught to be gentlemen, or are you truly all as base and savage as the rest of the higher Realms believe?” 

“Just try not to kill anyone, ok?” 

*****  
***** 

When Loki returned that evening, Happy had been gone for hours.  Long enough that Ilmr had managed to walk Fenrir and Vidar to the local grocery market and back, and make a meal. 

She was picking at the remains of her meal when he arrived. 

“I have left some for you, it only needs to be warmed.” 

Loki scowled.  “Was it necessary that you so strain yourself?” 

Ilmr furrowed her brow.  “With what?” 

“I will have a servant come to prepare meals.” 

He was not himself, still, she realized. It had been nearly a week since he had regained her with the use of the gauntlet but he was still so careful. Protective, even. 

She did not know what to make of it. Ilmr was grateful for it, because as much as she really was herself again, she still had horrible visions clawing through her mind, still did not feel quite herself.  Most disturbing of all to her, she felt weak. 

Ilmr shook her head.  “It is not necessary.  I need to regain my strength and it will not happen if someone else does everything for me.” She gave him a nervous smile, then. “And I would not risk someone recognizing you.  S.H.I.E.L.D. has dismissed your sentence but that does not mean the populace has.” 

She watched him regard her for a time before finally nodding.  “What did you make?” 

“Pulled pork and steamed vegetables. And a delicious salad. Truly, I still do not know what half of the vegetables are but it nearly does not matter.” 

Ilmr watched an unreadable expression cross Loki’s face as he regarded her quietly.  “Stark’s servant came by today, did he not?” 

She was unsure how he knew, though she was unsurprised. “He did.  He left me with a telephone similar to the one Mr. Stark possesses and a description of what my duties would be, should I choose to join him.” 

Loki nodded. 

“Were I to accept, we would likely have to live in his tower.”  

She watched him for his reaction. Instead of the immediate denial she expected, he sat beside her.  Held out a hand. She took it warily. 

“I was there today, and the Man of Iron made me an offer.” 

Ilmr sat forward to see his face better. “An offer of what nature?” 

“Healing.  I’m no healer, by Asgardian standards, but to the mortals, my skills cannot be replicated by any technology or skill they possess.  Stark suggests that should I work for him as a healer, it would likely indebt S.H.I.E.L.D. to me.” He glanced to her and again Ilmr could not read his expression.  “And we could use such an advantage.” 

She could only nod.  Much as she might want to refuse the offer Tony Stark made her, she could not deny the need for Loki to accept the offer made to him. 

“Then you will accept, and we will move into his tower.” 

The only motion Loki made that he had heard her was to squeeze her hand tight once. 

*****  
*****

Stark had made him two offers.  Once was for the use of Loki’s knowledge of healing. The other he made as Loki turned to leave after his less than satisfactory agreement that the men of Midgard were uncouth. 

_“Wait, Loki.”_

_At that, he spun. Stark had never called him by his name before.  At least, not to his face._

_“If you agree, if you can get her to agree to her contract too, I’ll get her the best therapist in the city.”_

_Loki narrowed his eyes.  “Why?”_

_“She might seem like herself but she can’t possibly be.  A therapist can help her.”_

_Loki pinched the bridge of his nose.  “I realize that much.  Why do you wish to help her so much?”_

_The Man of Iron took a long swig of his drink.  "I think it's pretty clear the lengths you'll go to for her, whether you want to admit it or not."  Loki glared at Stark for the inference. "I want to keep you from needing a reason to go to any length.  So if you agree to do some of your voodoo to heal people, and if you get her to agree to come work for me, I'll hire the best therapist I can find in New York for her."_

_Loki hesitated.  Though she had, for the most part, returned to him, she was still not quite herself.  She did not wake any longer, but the nightmares were still there and Loki often held her fast against himself until they passed.  He never told her of them in the morning, though he suspected he didn't need to.  A therapist, as it was called, would likely be helpful._

_"It's not her fault."  Stark's voice, quiet for once, broke through his thoughts. "I mean, sure, ok, she helped.  But -and seriously, this isn't going to become a habit- you're right.  She suffered because of you."_

_Loki attempted to suppress a growl and only half succeeded.  He was growing exceedingly tired of having Ilmr held over his head.  But more than that, he was tired of it working.  He did not see an end to the pattern._

_"_ Alright _."  He forced the word out through his teeth.  Stark took a step back at the sound.  Loki sighed, lifting and dropping his hands in exasperation.  "I will do it."_

_Stark smiled wide.  "She is like, the best bargaining chip ever."_

_With two strides, Loki had the Man of Iron backed against a wall, hand at his throat.  "If you wish to remain ambulatory, you will not say such things, nor treat her as such.  Am I most transparent?"_

_Stark nodded quickly.  "Yup.  Yes.  Got it."  Loki watched the man shake off his tension once Loki released him.  "Man.  You are in_ deep _."_

_"_ Enough _."  Another short, bitten word, this one shouted.  It was sufficient to silence the Man of Iron.  Loki straightened.  "I will speak to her.  We will return here with our hounds and belongings within the week.  Have a floor of your tower ready for our arrival."_

_Without waiting for Stark's reply, Loki strode from the room._

_He spent the next several hours fuming, walking the streets of New York blanketed in invisibility.  It was a vicious, endless circle.  He despised Stark for thinking of Ilmr as something with which to bargain.  He despised that he felt that strongly for her.  He despised himself for despising the love he felt for her.  He had not said such a word to her, not since their betrothal in the presence of Odin and Frigga.  He did not see a need and she did not seem to mind._

_Only once the sun had disappeared from the sky did he turn towards home._

Home _.  He did not mean Midgard, that residence they currently inhabited._

_The circle started again._

Ilmr agreed readily to the move.  It unsettled him.  She would likely have fought him to remain in the country, to stay away from New York because of how much she hated it.  Instead, she merely acquiesced with only a few minutes thought.   

She was so much more herself, and yet pieces were still missing.  If Stark's therapist was unable to deliver on the Man of Iron's promise, the consequences would not be favorable for Tony Stark.   

He had to admit, she was right that she needed to regain her strength, though he was loathe to see her perform tasks that would have been left to servant had they been in Asgard.   

***** 

"When do we leave?"   

Loki looked up from his book, glad of the interruption.  It was not particularly thrilling, but one that he saw the need for, as Ilmr had - one of many of Midgard's history, complete with many, many maps.   

"One week.  Stark will send some of his servants to bring us to his tower." 

He watched her glance around the room, Vidar lounging on one couch and Fenrir lying happily at Loki's feet, head in his lap.  Even with their collars, they were huge and Fenrir did not have to strain to sit his head perfectly for a scratch behind the ears.   

"Oh." 

Loki set his book aside.  He had to be careful, still.  Partly because she _was_  so much more herself, she would notice and be peeved that he was being careful, despite the fact that she likely knew it was necessary.   

"Is that enough time?" 

Ilmr gave him a smile that did not crinkle the corners of her eyes.  "Yes." 

"I too dislike New York." 

She released a frustrated sigh.  "I just..." She seemed to struggle with herself.  "I liked it here.  If I tried, I could forget we were in Midgard." 

Loki could only nod.  Had it not been for Stark's promise of help for her, he would have preferred to stay in their current living situation.   

"Why did you do what you did?" 

He was unsure what she meant.  "Which transgression are you referencing?" 

"Giving up Asgard."  

She had only mentioned it the once since she had regained her mind, but it was clearly still there, gnawing at the edges of her mind.  It was the reason why he had agreed to live in Stark's tower.  She acted herself in front of many.  In front of him, usually.  But she was not herself, not wholly, and he saw it in glimpses such as this.   

"That was no transgression, Ilmr.  No mistake."   

She did not respond.   

There were some compromises Loki was unwilling to make and instead found a different way to say it.  When he spoke, he used the tone that she found most persuasive, the most comforting.  "If I felt I would have been better off without you, I would have annulled our marriage when Odin announced to us that Thor would be his heir." 

At that, she nodded, seating herself on the couch next to the armchair he lounged in.   

They fell into silence, then.  Ilmr seemed to try to fathom his words and Loki reread the same page of his book again and again.

 

 


	21. Chapter Twenty One - Stark's Tower

**Chapter Twenty One – Stark’s Tower**

 

A/N:  Oh man! I finished up part one today!  There are two more chapters after this one.  After that, depending upon how far I get with part two, there may be a brief break between them as I build up enough writing to give myself a buffer to post from while still writing.  We’ll see. 

I also had an idea for a Captain America story this past weekend that I started writing, too.  So. That’s in the pipeline as well and hopefully will begin posting within six months.  **Subscribe if you’d like to be alerted to when those stories start** (I don’t have titles for them yet).  Lyrics for this chapter are from Emile Sande’s “My Kind of Love” (check out the RedOne and Alex P Remix). Perspective changes from Loki to Ilmr after the double page break.

  

 

_'Cause when you've given up._  
 _When no matter what you do it's never good enough._  
 _When you never thought that it could ever get this tough,  
_ _That's when you feel my kind of love._

  

The “penthouse”, as Stark called it, that they were given was spacious, with a wall of windows and a plethora of flora. The floors were a dark wood. It was nothing like the modern, clinical spaces Loki had seen elsewhere in the tower. 

The elevator they stepped off of into their space opened into a hallway with places for both their armor and more Midgardian vestments. One could see from the elevator that after the short hallway, the space widened into two rooms: an easterly-facing living room with a wall of windows and a kitchen across from it, separated by a high stone bar with a set of stools.  

Farther down the hall that disappeared around a corner, Loki presumed were the bathing room and bedchamber. 

One entered the living space from the hallway by descending a set of three steps, creating the illusion of a separate room without use of a wall.  Altogether, there were two couches and an armchair surrounding a beautifully, intricately carved low table with a pane of glass atop it.  There was a small pond with fish and a waterfall across the room against one wall, and between the two armchairs was what Loki could only assume was a fireplace, though the contraption in the space did not look like any he had seen before. 

The kitchen was more utilitarian, with many devices Loki could not name.  The refrigerator was fully stocked with fresh produce and a variety of beverages. The bar that separated the kitchen and the living space while keeping the area open and airy was small but unsurprisingly well-stocked. 

The wall of windows in the living area opened to a huge balcony with deep-set wooden chairs and a small table between them. At the end of the balcony Loki could see, there was a table with benches and a large umbrella. 

Continuing down the hall, Loki found himself correct and then some: two bedchambers and two bathing rooms.  

The first bedchamber –theirs- was massive, with a bed about as large as theirs had been in Asgard.  Another wall of windows with sheer, deep green curtains was opposite the entryway and huge, comfortable looking beds for Fenrir and Vidar sat on the wall opposite the bed.  Two dark wooden armoires sat on the wall beside the entryway and a door close to the balcony doors likely led to the bathing room.  Though he had had an antechamber, bedchamber and bathing room in his quarters in Asgard, the size of this space made an antechamber obsolete, with a settee and two armchairs settled near a large bookcase.  

As with the other rooms, the bathing room was large with a deep tub that would likely hold half a dozen people.  A separate shower was enclosed in glass.  Another armoire held a myriad of towels, bathing supplies, and two robes.  Also green. 

The second bedchamber, somewhat smaller than the first but otherwise similarly appointed, with it’s own bathing room and smaller balcony was at the very end of the hallway.  It appeared Stark felt the need to accommodate guests they would not have. 

The entire space reminded Loki at once of both Asgard and the outdoors, given the wide-open spaces, high ceilings, and windows. Ilmr seemed to take to it for that reason.  

He watched her glance to the ceiling for a moment before reaching down and unclipping the collars around Vidar and Fenrir’s necks. She had judged properly: the ceilings were high enough that they easily fit in the space in their normal size.  

Without hesitation, the two hounds padded off to further investigate their new quarters.  

***** 

"So!  How's it look?  Pepper did all the decorating, of course, but-- _Whoa_."   

Stark hadn't bothered to wait more than a quarter of an hour for them to get settled and before he could get too far in his yammering, both Fenrir and Vidar were in front of him, dwarfing the Man of Iron and putting an end to his chatter with growls resembling far-off thunder.   

Two swift snaps from behind them and Ilmr had them sitting. Loki almost scowled at the end to the Man of Iron’s discomfort.  "Apologies, Mr. Stark.  They are unaccustomed to others arriving unannounced."   

"I noticed."  He stepped carefully but quickly around them.  "I'll uh, pass the word around to the staff." 

Ilmr nodded.  "Perfect."  She offered no more.   

"So, what do you think?" 

"It will suffice."   

Stark sputtered, glancing to Loki at Ilmr's response.  " _Suffice_?" 

Loki shrugged, entirely enjoying Stark's disbelief.  "The only chambers in Asgard that more than sufficed were mine."  Loki gave Stark a wide, innocent smile.  "And she dislikes Midgard." 

By now, Ilmr had settled their hounds in the living space and was herself seeking out the makings of a cup of tea.   

"Come on! I'm giving you a chance to help fix this place and you still don't like it?" 

She did not glance up from her tea making as she carefully selected a sachet from a myriad.  Loki found himself thankful that much had been done to make her feel comfortable and he suppressed his hatred for hating that feeling.  He had found that the cycle did nothing but drive him mad. 

"No.  And it cannot be fixed, Mr. Stark.  What you may do will help, certainly, but it would be as a bandage on a fatal wound." 

Stark wagged a finger at her, but looked to Loki.  "It's because she stepped out of a Tolkien book, right?" 

Loki raised an eyebrow.  "I'm not familiar with the reference."  He nodded seeing Ilmr raise an empty mug to him before looking back to Stark.  "Tea?" 

" _Tea?"_ With a sigh, it appeared the Man of Iron gave in.  "All right.  Fine.  Tea for me too." 

With a nod, Ilmr started the kettle.   

Loki watched Stark and grew more pleased with himself as Tony clearly grew more uncomfortable. 

"Okay, see, I don't like this.  I don't like that look.  Don't do that.  -Hey, Princess? Can you make him, you know, _not_  do that?" 

"He may do what he wishes."  Loki turned at the hollow sound of her voice and realized she had her head in the refrigerator.  She had put some of her weight and muscle back on, but she was still not her normal size or strength and he was glad to see her desire to eat.   

"Fine.  You start on Monday morning, by the way."   

At that, Ilmr stuck her head around the open door of the fridge.  "Do I?  And what will my first day entail?" 

"Pepper has meetings in Midtown, so you'll go with her there as her security.  After that, you'll be back here for anoth--" 

"--I will provide Ms. Potts with security for the time being." 

"Yeah, not part of the deal.  She goes with Pepper.  Besides, everyone will recognize you, and don't say you won't be tempted to break your contract with Fury, because I know you'll want to." 

"She is not well enough to provide the sort of security you would wish for Ms. Potts.  I will do it.  I will touch no one unless she is truly threatened and I am unable to remove her from the situation peacefully."  With a wave of his hand, Loki's features shifted and he looked for all the world like one of Stark's men: nondescript, black suit, expensive telephone, and sunglasses.  "And no one will recognize me." 

"No.  I will go."   Ilmr held a mug to both he and Stark.  Loki accepted his with a glare, shifting back to his own visage.  

"You will _not_.  You are not well enough."  He looked to Stark after giving Ilmr a measured look.  "I will go in her stead.  None but the three of us will know it is me and not her." 

"Wait."  Stark's smile was huge.  "You mean you'll go _as_  her?" 

"Yes." 

"Will you wear a dress?" 

"I don't believe a dress is the desired uniform, given that she would be unable to perform her duties should she need to." 

Stark pouted.  "Fine.  Once she's better, you'll stop substituting.  Got it?" 

Loki nodded once.  "Certainly." 

"Oh!"  Stark looked to Ilmr, who was busy pouring her own mug.  "Your therapist will come every Tuesday at one, by the way." 

The kettle slipped from her hands while Loki silently cursed Stark.  "What?" 

"A therapist.  You -they -see, they--"

 "--I _know_  what they are.  Why do I have one coming to see me?" 

Loki halted her from cleaning the spilt water with a wave of his hand, the water disappearing and the kettle resettling on the stove.   

"What? Because yo--Oh."  Stark looked to Loki, who was positive he had a downright murderous look on his face.  "You didn't tell her yet."   

"Get. _Out_."  Loki managed to growl instead of shout.   

Stark did not need to be told twice. 

When Loki turned from staring at Stark's retreating back, he saw Ilmr standing stock-still in the kitchen focusing on keeping her breathing even.   

"This is why you agreed to work for Stark."   

She was not asking, and Loki saw no reason to lie in this case, it would only make it more difficult.  "Yes." 

"Why did you not _tell_  me?"  Though the eyes that met his were clear, her voice had a rawness to it.  Before he could respond, she held up a hand.  "It does not matter.  It is done.  I will not go."  She turned and started down the hall. 

"Youwill go." 

That stopped her in her tracks for mere moments before she turned.  Her feet brought her to stand in front of him as quickly as possible.  He could see the anger etched on her features as she glared up at him.  "I have no need." 

He took her hands carefully in his, one thumb brushing against the scar that remained on one of her wrists.  It would have already disappeared, were it not for the extensive damage done to her body that she was still healing from.  "Do you not?"  He did not let her pull her hands free.  "Ilmr, I know better than any the toll the Titan takes.  I was able to restore you in many ways.  But there are some that I was unable to manage despite my attempts.  This is one such.  You are so much more yourself, but there are ways in which you are not quite yourself, not yet.  Stark assures me this person can help." 

"And the other things you were unable to mend about me?" 

Loki contained a sigh.  "You are daft to think I think you are less, the way you are now.  I do this for your comfort within yourself, not me." 

She did pull away at that, regardless of his hold, shaking her head.  "No." 

She kept her hands close by her sides and so he found himself taking her face between his hands instead.  He was unsure when he became this comfortable with affection.  "This is exactly why, Ilmr.  You would not have questioned such a thing before.  He has poisoned your mind such that though you are much yourself, he still lingers.  I would have him drawn out." 

She seemed to stalwartly ignore his words.  "And the other things?" 

"I believe Stark can find a way to remove those scars the Titan gave you that I could not heal.  Those scars that came from his iron.  If you wish it." 

She was quiet a long while, still between his hands as she seemed to battle with herself.  When she spoke, it was in a whisper.  "You will let no more harm come to me." 

Loki nodded and pressed a kiss to her forehead, unsure of what else to do; though he had grown accustomed to seeing her less confident when he was her only company, he liked it no better.  

***** 

For all that Loki had altered his image before - as guardsmen, as even Odin, it was strange to sit in Ilmr's skin across from Pepper Potts, the woman who ran Stark Industries and who somehow found enough redeemable qualities in the man that she was romantically involved with Stark himself.   

"Sorry Tony burst in on you like that on Friday." Pepper began. "I can't say I'm glad I wasn't there, though." A playful smile curved her lips.  "I would have loved to see his face when your dogs stared him down. -I mean, I know they're _not_  dogs, but I don't know what else to call them." 

Ilmr.  He was Ilmr and she was patient with this sort of chatter, even if she disliked it.  "No need to apologize, Vidar and Fenrir facing him down was recompense enough.  And I'm sure he's spread the word throughout the tower for all to announce themselves before entering our quarters." 

She laughed.  "That was the first thing he did.  Then he called me.  It was one of the least stressful calls I've ever had with him." 

"What is it you see in him?" 

She shrugged.  "I've worked for Tony since he took over his father's legacy.  He's funny -and thoughtful, when he remembers to be."  Pepper shot him -Ilmr- a look before continuing.  "And probably a lot of what you see in Loki:  the mischief and confidence and generosity.  And probably a lot like you and Loki, he's all I have." 

"You seem to know much about Loki and myself." Loki kept his voice somewhat quiet so as to appear shy. 

Pepper nodded.  "Tony talks a lot.  A lot. When you were...not yourself, he said Loki was so distraught he was _more_  dangerous than when he tried to take over a couple years ago.  He said he couldn't believe Loki even _cared_  about another person." 

"And what do you think?" 

Pepper laughed nervously.  "I don't know, I haven't met the guy, but I don't think everyone's all bad or all good, you know?  My grandmother always used to tell me that every pot has its lid."  She shrugged.  "I guess you're the lid to Loki's pot, that's all." 

Ilmr-Loki nodded.   

"Do you like it?" 

"Our chambers?" 

"Yeah."  Pepper smiled. 

Loki thought of what Ilmr had said to Tony Stark, and what Tony had said about Pepper decorating them, and what Ilmr would likely wish to say.  "They are lovely.  Mr. Stark said you decorated." 

"I didn't have much to go on.  I picked his brain for what he knew about Asgard from Thor, but I had to go on fantasy stories for what I thought an elf might like."  Pepper immediately looked troubled.  "You are half-elf, right?  Tony wasn't kidding?" 

"I am half-elven, yes.  Vanaheim is quite green and I was pleased to see our chambers decorated more with wood and greenery than the cold stone and electronics that Mr. Stark seems so fond of." 

Pepper gave Ilmr-Loki a measured look and he realized she was much more canny than he had estimated.  "You don't like it here, do you?" 

"No.  Neither Loki nor I find much pleasure in Midgard." 

"Are you here until you're recovered and then going back to Asgard, or did Odin throw you both out?" 

"We will remain even after I'm recovered." 

"Hah!"  Pepper pointed at Ilmr-Loki, her face stern.  "I can't  _believe_  this!  I am going to _kill_  him.  What was he _thinking_?" 

"I'm not sure what you--" 

"--I know you're not Ilmr.  And this is really creepy." 

Loki sighed.  He dropped the illusion and made a mental note that Pepper Potts was bearable and intelligent.  "Ilmr is not yet well enough to act as your security." 

"So Tony sent _you_?" 

Loki gave a wry smile.  "I thought you said I had redeemable qualities." 

"I made an analogy with cooking equipment!  Those are entirely different things!" 

"I volunteered.  I will not have her risk herself when she is yet unwell and weakened." 

Peppers features softened and Loki worried briefly that she would exhibit some sort of unacceptable feminine display but instead she broke out into a smile.  "I told him you weren't all bad." 

Loki raised an eyebrow.  "Where are you going that requires such security?" 

"Just a meeting, nothing special.  I think Tony just wants me to be safe.  There were some... _difficulties_  last year that almost got us both killed, so he's trying to be as careful as he can, I think." 

"Stark's wisdom extends beyond his electronics, it seems." 

Pepper graced him with a smug smile.  "You and Tony probably have a lot more in common than you think." 

Loki drew his mouth into a disdainful frown.  "I shudder to think." 

"Mischievous, witty, terrifyingly intelligent, magicians in your own right, arrogant...-did I miss anything?" 

"Attractive." 

Pepper smiled.  "Arrogant." 

The vehicle came to a stop and the servant named Happy held the door for Pepper.  Loki quickly replaced the illusion of Ilmr before following her out.   

***** 

The meeting was horrifically boring and Ilmr-Loki stood at attention by the door.  The uniform Stark had instructed was finely made, though bland.  Instead of the white blouse Stark had indicated, Loki had made it green.  The slacks he left as they were - plain and black.   

"If this is the extent of her duties, she will grow terribly bored."  Loki had waited until they were back in the sleek black vehicle to speak. 

"It will take up some of her time, but that's not _all_ she'll do.  At least, that's not my plan.  I also want her to train some of our security people.  They're great, but she can teach them much more.  -I mean, she did command her father's army, right?" 

"Correct.  Is that all, attending _meetings_  and training employees?  It seems an unusual amount of compensation for such things." 

Pepper shrugged and Loki was immediately on guard.  

"You will tell me what you know." 

She held up her hands defensively.  "I only know a little bit.  Very little.  Tony's keeping it close to his chest because he doesn't want me in the middle between he and the two of you." 

"Tell me what _little bit_  you know." 

"Tony wants to look at your magic.  How it works.  Something about quantum physics or ...something." 

"She possesses no magic, and I am aware of Stark's interest in my abilities and have agreed to his inspection." 

"Then I don't know what he wants with her, he only mentioned magic, I assumed you could both do it." 

Loki grit his teeth, but shook his head.  "She cannot.  I will speak with Stark when we return." 

***** 

The return journey was much longer due to many more vehicles on the roads than when they had left the tower.  Pepper was all too quick to vacate the car, though she spared the time to tell him that she would send Tony down shortly to discuss his plans for Ilmr. 

Ilmr was on the balcony when he arrived back in their apartments.  The huge glass doors were closed behind her but he could still hear the faint sound of music drifting through from outside.   

She had been in Midgard long enough to have developed a taste for some of their better music and she was rather fond of the music a gentleman named Schubert made.   

Vidar had greeted him with a lift of his head from his place on one of the couches, though Fenrir approached quickly, seeming to enjoy all the time with his master he had missed previously.   

Ilmr did not hear that he had returned, it seemed, between the closed doors and the music.   

Though she had plenty of her own kit, both Asgardian and Midgardian, she had taken up the practice of _yoga_  that Pepper had mentioned in passing their second day in the tower that brought with it a pair of rather soft, and very flattering, trousers that Loki had made a mental note to keep her from wearing in the presence of others.   

The top Pepper had given her with the trousers was also something she would only be allowed to wear in the privacy of their quarters: it was a similar soft, stretchy material in a blindingly bright color that ended just below her breasts.  Fortunately, the material was tight and though it looked to expose much of her shoulders, back and midsection, there seemed to be no chance of inadvertent indecent exposure.   

Thus far, in the two days she’d had the items, she had worn the trousers both for yoga and around their apartments. Loki did not complain: it was thus far the only Midgardian vestment he had no quarrel with.  The top, however, she had worn only under another shirt.   

She was comfortable with him, certainly, and would often shift over close to him in her sleep.  She allowed him physical contact and in many cases sought it out.   

She did not allow him much more than a glance of her skin and he did not press her.   

This day, she wore only the blessed _yoga pants_  and the minuscule top.  She had clearly expected him to be longer at Pepper's meetings and knew with Fenrir and Vidar in the living room, no one would even attempt to enter their floor of the tower.   

Her back was a mass of purple and white raised scarring.  Thanos had made it so that only Loki would see the extent of her damage, so he would know each time he saw her that Thanos had touched her, had destroyed her, because of him.   

It did not make sense to him, such a thing. Thanos had intended to kill her; to mark her in such a way that seemed to Loki to imply the Titan thought he might fail was disquieting.  If he made such contingency plans, he shuddered to think what other such plans he may have made. He could only hope any plans the Titan had laid as a failsafe would not come into play before Ilmr was well again. 

She was beginning to put weight and muscle back on.  Her spine was less visible as protrusions of bone and more a ravine as her back muscles strengthened.  She had been training since she was well enough to in her home in the country, but it had seemed between the amount of food and time available to her here, she had improved greatly in just a few days.  

Though his ring hadn't protected her from Thanos, it seemed to be doing a great deal in healing her body quickly and helping her to regain the weight and muscle, even given the extent of the injuries and what Loki had already healed.  He needed to find a skilled smith to coat her ring in Ghaal’itaa, though he was loathe to take the item from her, even for an afternoon. 

Ilmr turned as she shifted from one absurdly-named pose to another and caught sight of him watching her.   

The glass doors were clearly treated in some way, as they should have shattered at the force with which she thrust them open.   

"What are you doing?  You aren't due back here for a while yet."  She sounded panicked and he realized she was making for the hallway to find a shirt to cover herself.   

He stopped her and she did not fight him as she would have before.  She would see the therapist for the first time the next day.  "Ms. Potts' meeting ended sooner than expected." 

She would not look at him.  "I must dress." 

"Sir, Mr. Stark is on his way to your suite."  Loki had not gotten used to the strange, omnipresent machine in Stark's tower; the disembodied voice always startled him.   

He growled at the poor timing of both it and Stark.  He let Ilmr slip down the hall.  "He may enter."  Loki liked the machine if only because it did not require politesse in order to interact with it.   

Moments later, the elevator doors slid open and Stark stepped out tentatively, clearly looking for Fenrir and Vidar. 

"I _should_  have let them approach you as they saw fit, given your abysmal timing and evasion."  Loki kept the hounds still with a hand motion.   

"Shoulda woulda coulda.  Pepper said you wanted to talk.  Actually, she was pale and said you were livid.  If you're going to be here and not be thrown out of the top floor windows yourself, you're going to be nice to her.  I won't ask again." 

"She informed me that you wished to see Ilmr in your lab.  She possesses none of the magic I do and you did not make mention to me that you would subject her to the similar experiments you would me.  I will not allow it and only by my agreement with S.H.I.E.L.D. do you remain standing." 

"Hey, _you_  were the one who wanted me to try and fix her scarring.  I can't do that if I can't study her.  I have Banner coming in to help, he's gonna look at her DNA and see what he can do about the reaction to iron.  We've talked and he thinks we should try to treat it like an allergy or a keloid or something."  Tony took a breath and closed his eyes to keep from rolling them at the somewhat confused expression Loki must have had on his face.  "What I'm saying is, I need her in the lab because I can't fix her if I don't know what she's made of.  Got it?" 

Loki watched the Man of Iron for several moments, keeping an insult at bay and reminding himself not to shout at the man who would help Ilmr.  When he finally did speak, it was clipped.  "I will be present at every trip to this lab, every time you study her.  She will not do this alone, and you will do nothing without her express consent." 

Stark gave him a look that made Loki think he had grown an extra appendage.  "Duh?  I could get sued _so hard_  if I didn't have her consent.  And sure, you can be there, but you have to be nice."  Tony smiled a mile wide.  "Because if you aren't, Bruce will throw you through, like, five walls." 

Loki gave a grim smile.  "I seem to recall his excessive strength, yes." 

"Great!"  Tony clapped his hands together once.  "We'll see you both tomorrow morning then." 

*****

"You did not ask me." 

"No, I did not."  Loki refrained from rubbing an eyebrow in frustration.  He had seen this coming but did nothing to counteract her predictable reaction. 

"You would let him experiment on me." 

"No, Ilmr.  What he would do, he would do only to restore your skin."  He placed a hand gently, carefully on her knee.  There were some places he knew she was hesitant for him to touch.  Her knee was a safe spot, thus far. "Did you not ask that I have him do what he could?" 

She nodded. 

"I will be present, he will do nothing you do not wish and you may stop him at any point." 

She nodded.   

"What is the matter, Ilmr?" 

When she spoke, it was a whisper that she tried to keep level.  "It is vain of me, is it not?" 

"It is not." 

"What if Stark is unable to remove them?" 

"We can contact Alfheim, to see what they may know and at best, they are helpful.  At worst, you bear them as you do now." 

"And what will become of you, if I must bear them?" 

At that, he shifted to face her rather than remain side-by-side.  "None of these things, these people, are for my benefit, Ilmr.  I asked for them because you did." 

She nodded once more, and went back to her tea. 

*****    
***** 

"Did he explain how this would work, or did he let this go the way of the therapist?"  Tony barely glanced up from the screen in front of him, though he could see through it, if he looked.   

"He mentioned something about blood, experiments and that you would be approaching it in ways one might various Midgardian afflictions." 

Banner nodded to Loki, who was behind and somewhat to the right of where Ilmr had perched on a high stool in the lab.  "Close enough." 

Procuring an empty vial and attaching a thin cord to it, he then picked up a thin needle Ilmr expected to see in her mother's sewing room attached to a plastic plug, and attached it to the other end of the strange cord and vial.   

"What is that?"  They had requested she wear short sleeves.  She had hesitated. The compromise had been a jacket she wore over the top until she was in the lab so that only Stark, Banner, and Loki would see the scarring that peeked out from the edges of the shirt.  She had only shown her scarring to the S.H.I.E.L.D. Director out of necessity in their negotiations. 

"This is called a butterfly needle."  Banner tied a thin elastic a few inches above her elbow.  "Make a fist."  He positioned her arm so that it was canted at an odd angle so as to be straight out in front of him.  He pressed around at her inner elbow.  "You'll feel a pinch."  He swabbed the area and then pierced her skin with the needle. 

He took two large vials of blood.  He reached for a third when Loki spoke up.  "That is more than enough."  His voice had a hard edge to it. 

"It might look like it, but we'll probably need to go back for more as we try to pin down what this reaction is most like."  Banner wrapped her arm carefully with a strange gauze that clung to itself and, Ilmr was amused to note, was green. 

"What will you do with it?" 

"A bunch of things."  Banner looked over the tops of his glasses while he labeled the vials.  "We have no similar blood to compare to, so instead I'll take small samples from what I have now and test it with iron and see what I can in the reactions it causes." 

"That's all?" 

"Trial and error, we may need to do other things, and we may need more blood, before we find anything out."  Ilmr saw him glance first to Loki and then back to her.  "And I'm sorry, but I need to take a sample of skin, some that's scarred and some that isn't." 

"Why?"  Loki was quicker than she to ask. 

"Same reason, really.  I need to see how the cells differ when they're rebuilt after contact with iron.  It might not tell me much but it will tell me something." 

"Does it matter where the skin comes from?" 

Ilmr watched as he produced two thin, transparent disks and a razor-sharp blade on the end of a utensil handle.  "Wherever you're most comfortable." 

She was uncomfortable with the entire ordeal, but she had requested they try to find a way to fix it, and so she would not turn back.  Instead, Ilmr stood and faced Loki.  Without a word, she lifted up the back of her shirt.  From what she had been able to see, what she had been able to _feel_ , the largest scars were on her back and where Banner was likely to get the best sample.   

Though Stark had seen some of Thanos' handiwork when she had shown some skin in S.H.I.E.L.D.s facility, it was nothing compared to what was likely on her back, from what she had inferred.   

Banner was still behind her for several moments and Ilmr found herself taking slow, deep breaths to ignore the vulnerability she felt creep over her skin.   

She was expecting there to be some pain, a small scraping or a pinch, or perhaps a burning sensation.   

She was not expecting that her immediate reaction would be a bloodcurdling scream and an uncomfortable, uncontrollable fluttering in her stomach that made it feel as though she couldn't breathe, though she could feel her chest heaving with effort as her vision tunneled.   

She swore she heard the mad laugh of the Titan. 

And then she felt herself crushed against something hard but soft and leather.  Something held her fast around her waist, kept her head still with light pressure at the back of her head.   

Loki's voice came from somewhere above her in a tone so icy she imagined he had dropped his Asgardian illusion in favor of his natural, frosty visage.  " _Get Away From Her_." 

Ilmr realized the pressure and the hard but soft and leather was likely Loki holding her against him to keep her still, to calm her.  Banner and Stark were somewhere behind her and kept silent for several minutes, most likely watching her panic while Loki held her still.   

"I'm sorry."  It sounded like Banner, soft and placating.  "I should have guessed that might have been her reaction." 

There was no response from Loki, and Ilmr was still trying to level out her breathing. 

"I'm sorry."  It was Banner again, she thought, sounding more insistent this time.  "I'm sorry, but I still need a sample of skin that hasn't been scarred, if she wants us to do this." 

She heard Loki let out an angry sound and she shuddered involuntarily.   

At that, he spoke.  "Not today." 

"Look, I don't enjoy this either."  That was Stark, she knew.  "But she can either do this now and be done with it, or be terrified until the next time and have to go through this all over again." 

Loki was still and silent for a stretch before leaning down into her field of vision. When he spoke, it was the tone that somehow always seemed to calm her.  "The decision is yours: now, or another day. I would not have any of us choose for you." 

If she concentrated, she thought she could still hear the Titan's laughter.  When she spoke, it was only loud enough for him to hear.  "If you do not move, they can take what they need." 

Loki nodded and kissed her forehead.  When he spoke, it was clipped and stony and unyielding. "Be quick."   

Ilmr felt his hold tighten and again the scrape of the razor.  She did not struggle, not really, though she felt herself tremble and the panic begin to dig in as it lurched up her throat, scream in tow.  She clenched her jaw tight.  

When it was done, Loki carefully ushered her out of the room without a word.  She realized, by the time they reached the elevators, that he must have cloaked them in invisibility, as a handful of staff had passed them without so much as a glance. 

*****

She wasn't sure when it happened, but she found herself seated on their couch with a mug of tea in front of her.  She didn't remember how she got there.   

"I am not myself, am I?" 

Loki glanced up from his hands.  It was a habit he returned from the Titan with that he had not yet shaken, if he would.  "In many ways, you are.  In others, you are not."  

"That is what the therapist is for." 

"Yes." 

"To fix me." 

"Those parts of you that are not yet as they were again.  Yes." 

"Do you think it will work?" 

He hesitated.  "I think it is the best opportunity we will have." 

Ilmr sipped her tea.  

 


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty Two – Fixing**

 

A/N:  Hi, everyone! Sorry this took so long to post! We have one more chapter after this then a bit of a break while I work on the follow-up to this story. Perspective shifts from Ilmr, to Loki, to Ilmr and finishes off with Loki.  All perspective changes are after the double page breaks. Lyrics this time around are from We Are Scientists’ “Can’t Lose”.

 

 

_I'd be willing to take the shape of what you wanted_  
 _I could just figure it out_  
 _I'm breaking my own rules  
_ _Becoming someone else_

  

“Mr. Stark tells me you wanted to speak to me about some recent experiences.” 

It was Tuesday.  Ilmr had been escorted to the therapist’s office by Loki who had promised he would return in an hour’s time to collect her. 

The therapist was a woman who, by Midgardian standards, had passed middle-age at least a decade earlier.  

“Mr. Stark was not entirely truthful.”

A rueful smile graced the woman’s lips. “He rarely is. Did he coerce you? I can’t say I’ll be much help if that’s the case.” 

“He and my husband, yes.  They seem to think it will be helpful.” 

“Do you?” 

“I cannot say.  Where I hail from, we do not have such people as yourself. I am clearly not myself but have no experience with someone in your profession.  I am not as untrusting as I am vulnerable.” 

Ilmr was surprised to find her words were met with a smile. 

“This will come as a surprise to you, but such candid conversation is going to make this much easier.” 

“I see.” 

“Where are you from, by the way?  I’m afraid that isn’t information Mr. Stark gave me.” 

“Vanaheim by birth, Asgard through marriage.” 

“Asgard?  Are you Thor’s wife?”  It seemed, in her absence, Midgard had grown far more familiar with the Realm Eternal. Something in her tone, however, made Ilmr think the woman already knew the answer to her question. 

“His brother’s.  Loki’s.” 

Though she nodded, Ilmr sensed the woman’s shoulders stiffen briefly.  

“Is Vanaheim in a different universe?” 

“No.  We all exist in the same universe, merely different realms within it, though there may be a great distance between one realm and another.” 

The therapist nodded.  “Your husband wanted you to see me, you said.” 

“Yes.  He thinks you can be of assistance.” 

“And what do you think?” 

“As I mentioned, neither of us have any experience with your profession.  I will have to see for myself if you can be useful.”  

“What sort of things do you think your husband and Mr. Stark wanted you to discuss with me?” 

“Loki.  You may use his name.” 

The woman nodded.  “What did Loki and Mr. Stark want you to discuss?” 

“Likely the torture I endured at the hands of a being called the Mad Titan.  Called Thanos. Though Loki has restored me physically as well as mentally, I am still not myself, I find.” 

“How so?” 

“I am fearful and hesitant.  I am unsure and look to Loki for reassurance. That is not my natural state.” 

“I see.” 

“You do _not_ see. I was Commander in the kingdom in Vanaheim from which I hail for centuries.  I have been a warrior longer than you can trace your ancestry back. Surety of self, confidence, decisiveness and equality to, not dependence upon, Loki, have only ever been my way.” 

Again, the therapist smiled.  “You are remarkably self-aware, Ilmr.  I believe I can be very helpful to you.” 

Ilmr nodded.  Thus far, she had done nothing but talk _at_ this woman.  She did not know what assistance could be provided. 

“You mentioned someone.  The person who tortured you.”

“He was a Being.  There was nothing human about him.  Nothing remotely recognizable as human, or anything else I have met in my travels through the Nine Realms, in him.” 

“He sounds like he would be terrifying.” 

“I dislike being patronized.” 

The therapist held up a hand in surrender. “Sorry.  Tell me more about the Titan.” 

“You fear Loki, most mortals do.  Most intelligent beings across the cosmos do. Thanos is the one who tortured him and bent Loki to his will.  That is the sort of being the Titan was.  Even the universe’s more dangerous inhabitants feared him.” 

“Why did he torture you?” 

“Because Loki failed.  He fell into the abyss of space and the Titan found him, after a time. He tortured Loki, rent flesh and muscle from bone and rebuilt him day after day; tore his mind asunder until he no longer knew himself.  Loki bargained for his life and Thanos tasked him with coming to Midgard to overthrow it, and then rule it, in the Titan’s name.  Loki was defeated.  Eventually, the Titan found me, took me, and tortured me endlessly.” 

“How is it that Thanos could torture Loki like that but not kill him?” 

Much as Ilmr suspected, the mortals’ fear and distrust of Loki was obstructive. 

“It did kill him.  Each day.”  Ilmr leveled her gaze at the ageing woman.  “Thanos possessed a power the like of which few have seen, least of all mortals, who believe themselves so alone in the great expanse of the universe that the rest of its inhabitants are called such things are _myth_ and _legend_ , _fairy stories_ , perhaps, or worst of all, _science fiction_ or _fantasy_. Thanos possessed, among other things, the ability to give and take life.” 

The therapist merely nodded.  Ilmr was not sure she believed this woman’s acceptance of her words. 

“How long were you this Thanos’ captive?” 

“Loki tells me it was a year.  At times it felt like ages.  Judging by your tracking of time in Midgard, his estimation is correct.” 

“You recovered remarkably well.” 

“Loki too possesses many talents. I was little more than a shell of myself when he returned me from Helheim.” 

“Is that where the Titan held you?” 

“No.  I don’t know where he had me.  In a dark, small corner of the cosmos, he kept me.  When Loki killed him, I died.  It was Thanos’ will alone keeping me alive by that time.  Loki journeyed then to Helheim to return me to the world of the living. Once he had done so, he healed me physically as best he could.  My mind was a place of terror.  He returned that to me as well, mostly, when he found the way to do so.” 

“And now here you are.” 

“Yes.  Loki and the Man of Iron believe you can be helpful in returning me to myself.” 

At that, the therapist narrowed her eyes. “How so?” 

“Stark has said you will help me become more myself. Loki has said you will fix me.” 

“What do you believe?” 

“I believe I married the God of Lies and there is no returning to myself, not truly, not wholly.  But I believe that perhaps I can get closer to the way I had been this way better than any other way.” 

The therapist nodded.  “Good.  We can—“ Two swift raps on the door cut her off.

Without waiting for an invitation, Loki opened the door and stepped in. 

The therapist was flabbergasted.  “You –you can’t just _barg_ —“ 

“—I may do as I wish.”  He cut the woman off. 

“I take no issue with this.”  Ilmr agreed. 

The therapist kept the look that crossed her face from lasting too long. 

“I’ll see you next week then, Ilmr. I’d like you to think of the things you mentioned that you’d like to get back and what you think some ways to do this might look like for you.” 

With a nod to the therapist and a glance to Loki, Ilmr strode from the room. 

*****  
***** 

Before the Titan, Ilmr would have seethed at the interruption of a meeting – even one such as this – without dire need. 

It was something that Loki had devised and that he had shared with this woman, this therapist.  She had been hesitant to agree to do it at all, had seemed to think he was her minder, not her husband. 

It disquieted Loki still, how quick she was to acquiesce. He was glad, however, that he had made his point.  He would not be needed at these meetings any longer.  The therapist understood now, even if she did not truly _know_ , and would do as he requested.  _Threatened_ was the word the woman had used, though when he thought about it, he realized she was being a touch melodramatic. 

He had left Ilmr in their quarters, instead going to meet Pepper Potts for what he had promised Stark he would do - heal. At least it was not another meeting. He wondered briefly if it were possible to die of boredom, and if so, how many mortals each year succumbed to this particular affliction, given how frequently they had these _meetings_.  

“Happy.”  He did not care for the man, finding him brash and entirely too reminiscent of a hound. 

Once Loki was situated, Happy turned to face them as he maneuvered out of the garage.  “Do they not have hospitals where you’re from?” 

“No. We have healers, certainly, but we do not dedicate entire buildings to them in each city.  Asgard has healers, but they are not the establishments found on Midgard.” Loki cast a glance to Pepper. He found that she was not entirely displeasing to be around and so found it within himself to have a care how he spoke.  “It is one of the reasons many of the other realms believe Midgard to be weaker.” 

“We might be weaker, but we’re all you’ve got right now.” Pepper gave him a bored but benign grin that made him think she had spent entirely too much time around the antics of Tony Stark.  

“Why are we leaving so immediately, might I ask? Your Man of Iron did not mention to me that this healing I would do from time to time would have me nearly at the beck and call of a mortal weaker than most.” 

Pepper’s short, offended noise was accompanied by an exasperated hand gesture of some sort.  “Because the people you’ll be healing will be _dying_. They don’t have time to waste. You’ll be their only hope of living.” 

Loki narrowed his eyes.  “Just how did Tony Stark procure this arrangement?” It had been a question he hadn’t wanted or cared to ask.  But given the urgency with which he would be called upon, more had happened surrounding this arrangement than he had thought.  At the time, he had merely thought of getting Ilmr back to herself regardless of cost. 

“The head surgeon owed Tony a favor.” She rolled her eyes. “Have Iron Man show up to your kid’s birthday party just once, and it’ll cost you more than you’d think.” 

“I see.” 

“You will.”  Pepper’s tone, though light, made Loki wonder the sort of injuries he would see. He had orchestrated the attack on this city, but hadn’t gotten close enough to see the damage done to its people. He did not know the sort of injuries that would nearly kill a mortal.  He had tried to do some reading, but it seemed some humans died if they ate the incorrect item, or if their own bodies turned on them for some reason. It would be better than _meetings_ , at least. 

***** 

There had been some commotion when Loki first arrived into the room with the _Emergency_ label. The surgeon that must have been the one indebted to Stark quieted the group, however, and ordered them to allow Loki to approach.  There was no body for him to heal. 

More commotion, this time from outside the room, and a boy –a _young_ boy- lay on a stiff, raised bed with no pillow, covered in blood, a tube stuck down his throat, for some reason, and more tubes connected to his arms, was rushed in. His torso was bare and was the source of the blood: deep, ragged gashes split him in various places from chest to waist. 

“He is near death?”  Loki was unsure why he was here.  “Have you not tried to stitch his injuries together?” 

“He’s been shot and he’s losing blood too fast. Stitches won’t help. I was told you’d be helpful. _Help_.” The surgeon had the decency to sound both frightened and irritated.  

With a roll of his eyes, Loki concentrated, waiting until his hands had warmed to place them over, but not on, this boy. This small, small child. Much to his surprise as the wounds healed, small pieces of metal came up from inside the boy’s body. 

He was small, so it took Loki far less time than it would have had it been an adult.  After nearly a quarter of an hour of silence as the surgeon and his servants looked on, the sound of one of these pieces of metal rolling off of the boy’s skin and onto the tile floor of the room made one of the servants jump in surprise. 

When Loki was sure the boy was healed, he stepped away, lowering his hands.  “He is well.” 

The surgeon, though clearly in the midst of a revelation, pursed his lips.  “He’s in the clear, then?”  The man looked to his team. “Bring him to the ICU.” 

Loki furrowed his brow.  “ICU?” 

“Intensive Care Unit.” 

“I do not understand.  He is well.” 

The surgeon’s servants stopped, stood stock-still, and listened.  

“What?”  This time, the surgeon sounded as incredulous as he looked. 

“He is _well_. You requested I heal him, so I healed him.  He is well. He is no longer injured and may return to his home.” 

Loki watched the surgeon and several of his servants open and close their mouths as though they were fish. 

Finally, the surgeon spoke to his team, eyes not leaving Loki.  “You heard him. _But_ we have to make this look believable.  Give him a bed in the ICU.  Carolina, you and Laura will trade shifts. This is for appearances only. In a couple days, move him to a regular room. We’ll send him home a few days after that.” 

The servants rushed to do the man’s bidding. As they did, he approached Loki. 

“How did you do that?”  The man’s voice was low. 

Loki smirked.  “It is sorcery.” 

“You’re really him.” 

“Yes.” 

“Are you repenting or something?  You have a long way to go, if you are.” 

“No.  I am doing what I must to ensure my safety.”  He would not mention Ilmr.  He would not have these mortals associating her with him.  Should the worst happen, he would not have them after her head as well. 

The surgeon nodded, clearly having hoped for a different answer.  “Well, whatever the reason, keep coming back here to do that.”  

Loki could tell the not-knowing was driving a man such as this surgeon mad with curiosity.  And so with a smirk, Loki took his leave. 

***** 

“So?”  Pepper had barely waited for him to return to the car.

“It is done.  I will do the same when my skills are next needed.” 

“Oh come on!”  She was not hiding her excitement and interest in the subject. “What happened?” 

“There was a child with bits of metal that fell out of him as I healed him.  Do mortals usually have that much blood at that size?” 

Though Pepper Potts kept her composure, her voice trembled. It seemed knowing of Loki’s task as a healer and speaking of those he was healing were two very different things. “These people are the ones who wouldn’t live without your help.  That little boy would probably have bled to death.” 

“When will I next be required?” 

“Any time a Plan Blue is called in.” 

“A what?” 

Pepper sighed, muttering.  “I told Tony to talk to you about this.  I should have known.”  She straightened and looked away from the window.  “Hospitals have color-coded emergencies to keep visitors calm and staff in the know.  At this hospital, Saint Vincent’s, a Plan Blue is when someone’s being rushed in with an injury so severe any pause in treating them could be the difference between life and death.  So, when one’s called in, we go.  If we beat them there, you’ll start immediately.  If they beat us, they’ll work on the patient until you arrive.” 

“How will we know when one is being ‘called in’?” 

“JARVIS listens for them.  He alerts us.” 

“How long will I be required to do this?” 

“As long as it takes to build up enough evidence for S.H.I.E.L.D. to feel like the pros would outweigh the cons when it comes to you.  So probably a long time.” 

Loki grimaced but remained quiet. 

*****  
***** 

A day before her next meeting with the therapist, the omniscient device Stark called JARVIS summoned her to the laboratories. Ilmr and Loki had lived in Stark’s tower for a little more than a fortnight and had not heard of any progress with the samples since the two men took them.  

“Dr. Banner and Mr. Stark request your presence, madam.”     

Loki had not yet returned from escorting Pepper Potts to her meetings earlier that day. 

“Immediately?” 

“As soon as you are able.” 

Ilmr did not want to go without him, but she was unsure when he would return. 

She went. 

“Shit, where’s Mother Goose?” 

Ilmr furrowed her brow.  “I am—“ 

“—Unfamiliar with that reference.” Stark cut her off. “Right.  Where’s your husband?” 

“He and Miss Potts have not yet returned.” 

“ _Shit._ Why did you come down?” Tony ran a hand over his face with a groan.  “He is going to kill me.” 

“I don’t understand.  You said to come as soon as I was able.” 

Banner cut in.  “Tony promised Loki that you wouldn’t ever come here without him.” 

Judging by the look on Stark’s face, her expression was more severe than she had thought it to be.  “He what?” 

“Oh my God.  How are you two still married?  Seriously. Are annulment and divorce not things where you’re from?” 

“I—“ 

“It was rhetorical.  Don’t answer, just --…fuck.” 

Ilmr heard what Stark had likely seen on a screen moments before:  Loki stalking towards the lab. 

They did not have long to wait.  Loki forced the door open with one hand, violence etched into the thin line of his mouth, the manic light in his eyes. 

Stark placed himself behind Dr. Banner. Loki’s path did not falter as he approached Ilmr. 

The severe look softened somewhat and had it not been for her heritage, she would not have heard him when he spoke. 

“Are you well?” 

“I just arrived.” 

With a curt nod, he turned toward Stark, the murderous look once more fixed on his features. 

“ _Did I not say she was not to come here alone_?” 

“I think Bruce looks a little green around the gills, don’t you?” 

Loki gave Banner a once over before looking back to Stark. Bruce seemed to be focused on Ilmr. “No.” 

“Look, I thought you were back.  I said as soon as she could, not immediately. She came down here on her own. I was telling her you didn’t want her here alone.” 

Loki turned without another word and approached Ilmr. She watched his expression flash through several: anger, concern, weariness, before settling upon the same look he had had when she was first brought back from Helheim, when he had looked at her like he was speaking to a cornered animal.  

“Why did you come here unaccompanied?” 

“I did not know when you would return.” 

“You must not come here without me.” 

She narrowed her eyes.  “I may if I wish.” 

“You must not.  Please.”

His expression had shifted back to concern.  She could not say what for.  “Why?” 

“I do not know what they might do to you, while you’re here.” 

“Hey, Marquise de Sade, since when are _we_ the bad guys?  We aren’t bringing her here to torture her.” 

“You may as well be, you know little enough of your task that I needed to carry her out on our last visit.  Do you know that what you might do this time would not elicit the same response, beyond doubt?”

“Enough. Jesus.”  Banner cut in.  “Ilmr, we’re still working on the blood samples, but the skin looks really similar to what we call keloid scars.” 

“And those are?”  She sat herself on a stool, glad to be talked to, rather than at, for the first time since arriving that afternoon. 

“In lay terms, it’s an overgrowth of scar tissue and which, like yours, is raised and discolored.” 

“These scars come from contact with what material?” 

Banner leaned back against the table opposite the one at which she was seated and crossed his arms.  She was ignoring the staring contest between Loki and the Man of Iron. 

“See, that’s the trouble, it’s with any material. It’s like yours in that it’s a genetic predisposition, but it isn’t specific like yours, it’s mostly any cut.” 

“And it doesn’t nearly kill the afflicted, as iron does me.” 

“Wait, what?”  Stark’s attention had been captured, it seemed.  Banner too leaned forward. 

“Iron.  Its presence is harmful to me.  In the same room, it makes me weak and nauseous.  A wound from an iron weapon will not staunch easily, will bring with it unimaginable pain.  A severe wound that would not kill me from another weapon could if the weapon were iron.” 

“You said allergy.” 

Ilmr tilted her head back as if struck. “I said no such thing, Loki informed you that it was harmful to me.” 

“Yeah, that’s a little more than harmful.” 

Banner had yet to speak again since Stark had cut in. 

“Does that change much?”  She did not want to allow them to take another sample of her skin, but was loathe to admit to such a thing. 

“Oh, not much, only _everything_.” Stark gestured in his exasperation. 

“Tony.”  Bruce stopped the engineer before looking to Ilmr.  “They still exhibit as a keloid would.  There’s just some difference in what _makes_ you exhibit these symptoms.  It changes things for the better, actually.”  She did not miss the reproachful glance Banner threw Stark at his final words. 

“Oh?” 

“Tony told me what Loki showed him of your injuries. You only have scars from the iron, nothing else, right?” 

“I have always healed clean.  I just do so faster now thanks to Loki.” 

“Great.”  Banner turned to the Man of Iron.  “Get a plastic surgeon on the phone.  A good one. That specializes in traumatic injuries.” 

“What is plastic surgery?”  Loki was once more faster than she could be. 

“Cosmetic.  No plastic involved.  Sorry. There are people here whose job is to take people with disfiguring injuries and make them less severe looking. I think if we can get him to remove the scar tissue the iron created, she’ll heal without the damage she sees now.” 

“That would be quite painful.  I do not believe she would remain still.” 

Bruce held up a hand, interrupting Tony before the Man of Iron could speak.  “No.” 

Ilmr shared a confused look with Loki before Bruce continued.  

“She’d be asleep.  You’d be present the entire time.” 

“She would wake.” 

Again Bruce silenced Tony Stark before seeming to struggle for his words.  “We have medicine that would keep her asleep until the procedure was finished.” 

Ilmr felt Loki’s eyes on her.  

“We will leave now.”  His hand was at her back as he spoke. 

Neither scientist stopped them. 

*****   
***** 

Tea had become, since the Titan, one of the few ways Ilmr could settle herself.  The routine: heating the water just so, steeping the sachet of leaves just long enough – it seemed to calm her in a way similar to yoga.  

He watched her stare at her mug briefly before he turned away. 

“JARVIS, I wish to understand this _plastic surgery_.”  She would hear him no matter how quietly he spoke.  He lowered his voice anyway. 

“Of course, sir.” 

It seemed there were many disasters when it came to such surgery and most of the women looked eerie afterwards if the photographs were to be believed.  Some looked monstrous. 

He found videos of the surgeries. It seemed to Loki as though mortals allowed themselves to be made unconscious by some draught and then viciously tortured. 

He grit his teeth.  “Bring me Stark and the creature.  Now.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

It did not take long before the two men stood before Loki just outside the elevator looking at once confused, sheepish and, in Stark’s case, nervous. 

“What you suggest is torture while she is kept unconscious by some potion.  I will not allow it.” 

Banner threw Stark a look before speaking. “Show me what you watched.” 

Waving them into the living room, Loki pulled up the myriad videos and photographs he had found.  

Bruce shook his head.  “No.  No, no. Here.”  With a short search, the images Banner produced were as if the ones he’d just seen were reversed. 

Women and children and men with horrific injuries looked far less terrible in the second image.  They had been repaired and though obviously still injured, the injuries were far less grievous and terrible to look upon.  

“This is the sort of person we’d get. One that can take those kinds of injuries and minimize them.  I think if he can cut out all the scar tissue, anything iron has touched, she’ll heal up with no scars.  I think.” 

“Healing is not immediate, given her current, still weakened state.  She would likely be in immense pain.  And I do not imagine that this would be done at one time.” 

“No.  It’d probably be several procedures.  And there are medicines to numb the pain that she would be given while she healed.” 

“Ilmr.” 

He waited until she approached, mug in hand, to speak. 

“She will decide.” 

Though she had likely heard all of what was said from her place fiddling with her tea in the kitchen, the two scientists explained the procedure with the help of various photographs and videos: what it was, what would be used to keep her asleep and free of pain, why they thought it would work. 

Ilmr remained silent throughout. 

“So?”  Tony was unable to contain himself and give her even a moment’s time to think. 

“It sounds barbaric.  I must think.”  Taking a large mouthful of tea, she turned and wandered off towards their bedchamber without a word. 

“Man, she’s still _real_ creepy, huh?  How is Janet working out, did she say?” 

Loki let his gaze fall to Tony Stark. “Who?”  It was not a name he had heard before, much less from Ilmr. 

“The therapist?  Janet?  She went, didn’t she?” 

“Of course she went.  She did not provide me with the woman’s name. I don’t believe she asked for it.” 

At that, Stark threw his hands up in exasperation and turned to go.  “You two are unbelievable. Do you know what I have to _pay_ that woman? Neither of you even asked for her _name_.  Oh my God.”  The elevator doors shut as Tony continued rambling. 

Banner quirked an eyebrow before turning back to Loki. “Look, she can take all the time she needs to decide, but I’m going to have someone on-hand for when she _is_ ready.”  He gave a small smile.  “I think it will help her feel more like herself.” 

Loki narrowed his eyes.  “Why are you being so kind?  When last I saw you, you made craters in Stark’s floor two stories up with me.” 

“I’m not being kind to you.  I’m being kind to her.  She’s no saint, but I don’t know that she deserved what Thanos dealt her.” A wider smile crossed Banner’s face. “And it will drive Fury crazy, which is the perfect way to thank him for the room he built me on the Helicarrier a couple years ago that I still haven’t thanked him for.”  

Loki nodded.  There was no lie in Banner, but he did not believe him regardless.

 


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty Three – Finding A Way**

 

A/N:  This is it, the last chapter of Part One!  Thank you to everyone that stuck with me and read, subscribed, bookmarked, given me kudos and reviewed! Please subscribe to me, gingertintedglasses, if you’d like to be alerted when Part Two begins posting (no title yet). This chapter begins from Loki’s perspective before switching to Ilmr and back, with double page breaks between each.  Lyrics in this chapter are from Garbage’s “The World Is Not Enough”.

 

 

_If we can’t have it all_  
 _Then nobody will_  
 _The world is not enough  
_ _But it’s such a perfect place to start, my love_

It was another month before Ilmr acquiesced to the procedure Banner specified.  By that time, the healer had been chosen and Loki begrudgingly admitted –to himself- that the man seemed as though he was capable.  He had a point of reference for such a thing, by now, as Loki had returned to the hospital no less than half a dozen times and healed the same number of mortals.  After the first instance with the small boy, the servants did not try to hinder him. He had found, with JARVIS’ assistance, that his attack on the city took two-thousand, three-hundred, and sixty-eight lives. 

He had the sneaking suspicion that Pepper Potts intended for him to make up for each of those lives with his abilities. Which, if his calculations were correct, and they were, would take three-hundred and thirty-nine months. He hoped he would either not be confined to Midgard for almost thirty years, or that there was a disaster that would help speed the process along. 

In that same amount of time Ilmr had met twice more with the therapist Stark insisted upon calling Janet.  If there was progress, it was slow and it frustrated her: she practiced yoga more frequently and the servants left new boxes brimming with tea sachets each week. 

Stark had grown impatient and Ilmr would be escorting Pepper Potts once recovered from her procedure.  Ilmr seemed eager to do so.  She had put on more weight and strength, though she was only just beginning to ease back into the practice she had spent endless hours on when she was in Asgard.  Vidar seemed all too happy to begin again himself. 

“Do you think it wise?”  They had taken to spending their Saturday evenings on their balcony, listening to her Schubert and sipping on a concoction similar to the white summer wine he had favored in Asgard.  Night fell late, far later than it did in Asgard, and they sat out in the temperate weather watching the sun sink below the skyscraper-cut horizon.  

She toyed with tufts of Fenrir’s fur. He had been so careful in her presence Loki felt the urge to praise him daily.  Now that she was more herself his huge pup sat with her more often: one of the few indications of her slow return to herself was Fenrir’s diminishing reticence.  Vidar was always within a single stride of her wherever he was allowed. 

“Taking up my duties in truth?” 

“Some of them.”  The conversation was ongoing, but while he reluctantly ceded Ilmr her place as Ms. Potts’ rightful guard, he was not willing to allow her to train Stark’s entire guard force.  

“All of them.  Yes. As ready as I will be. The longer I wait for them to begin, the more nervous I am to start.  It’s driving me to madness.” 

“Begin your duties with Ms. Potts, then. There is no sense beginning to train the members of Stark’s guard so soon after the first of many such procedures. You will get only a handful of lessons in before having to halt them for the next procedure in the series. Wait until they are finished entirely.” 

He watched Ilmr fight her desire with the reason she saw in his words.  It was not until they had nearly drained their first glasses of the drink, Pepper Potts had called it _sangria_ , that she spoke again. 

“Once I am recovered from the surgeries, I will begin training their security.  You will not waylay me again.” 

They had had this conversation, this _argument_ several times in the past weeks. That she persisted heartened him. That she would not see reason vexed and angered him. 

“I will not allow you to harm yourself after so long being harmed at the hands of others.  Will you not see reason?  Will you do yourself harm after all I have done to ensure your safety?” His tone was sharper than he had intended it to be. 

Ilmr turned her eyes from the sinking sun at that. He waited patiently under her gaze. 

She did something then he did not expect: she leaned over close to him, lips nearly touching.  It was then that she spoke.  “It may be reason, but it is still manipulation, my Lie Smith.”  With that, she stood and went to refill their pitcher of sangria. 

It had been a long time –since they courted, before their betrothal, even- since she had used their proximity to her advantage. It was another sign, to Loki, that she was slowly returning to herself.

It heartened him, and made him wonder how far back the procedure to remove her scarring would set her.  He would know in a handful of days. 

***** 

Loki had seen many things in his long life. Had seen Ilmr on Death’s door. Dead, even.  He had been _at_ Death’s door demanding Ilmr be returned to him. 

This procedure, this _plastic surgery_ , was stranger than any of that.  He had been allowed to be present.  He had sufficiently threatened the healer, and he watched as Ilmr was given a draught of some sort that made her disoriented and sleepy. Eventually, she laid still, various cords and wires attached to her.  It disconcerted him, to see her so like the mortals he had been healing. It had been decided that her legs would be healed first; should anything go wrong it would be easier to cover up. 

It was barbaric, if precise, and the healer clearly knowledgeable. It took hours. 

When they were finished, her legs were wrapped in thick gauze and secured with bandages.  A serum to keep the pain at bay, he was assured, was administered and the draught keeping her asleep was taken away.  

It was another hour before she woke much the same as she went to sleep: confused and curious.  

“Is it done?”  Her voice was rough from disuse. 

“Yes.  Does it hurt?” Loki had only been quiet during the procedure to let the healer work without distraction.  Before and after, however, he had asked a slew of questions. 

Ilmr fell quiet as she concentrated for several moments. “Yes, some.  It isn’t unbearable, but it’s a sensation unlike any I’ve felt before.  How long do they say it will take to heal?” 

“The healer assures me it will take weeks. He is incorrect. I suspect it will not take longer than a week, perhaps a fortnight at most.  He did not want to listen when I assured him of your enhanced ability to heal.” 

She hummed in lieu of a tired laugh. “He will see soon, then. What was it like?” 

“Barbaric.  He was precise, with utmost skill, but it was nonetheless savage. Each mark he carved out as if carving it anew, deeper.  You will see when they change your bandages.”

“How long must I remain here?” 

Though the hospital was not far from Stark’s tower, was indeed the same one at which he performed his healing, Loki still disliked it as much as she did.  

“Overnight.  Perhaps two.  Just long enough to be sure there is no infection and you are well enough to leave. After that, we will check in each fortnight on your progress unless an issue arises.” 

Loki saw several emotions flash across her features: frustration, resignation, impatience, and then, finally, acceptance. 

Ilmr only nodded before, a short time later, succumbing to exhaustion and sleeping. 

*****  
***** 

As Loki had suspected, it was little more than a week before she was fully healed.   The healer who had performed the procedure was dumbfounded despite Loki’s warning that it would not take long for her to heal.  Ilmr had been dumbfounded for an entirely different reason: she had healed clean. The healer had managed to cut out all of the scarring left by the Titan’s iron and in its place was clean, whole skin. 

She returned to their quarters from her meeting with the healer and his apprentice and headed straight into the bathing room. Turning on the water as hot as she could stand it, she stepped into the shower. 

Her top half was still magnificently marred, but her legs – she marveled at her unmarked skin and went over her legs again and again with her hands, with soap.  She felt herself near tears at the relief of not having to bear the marks of Thanos for the rest of her existence.  

At such a silly bubbling up of emotion, she rinsed a last time, shut the water off, and stepped out of the shower, wrapping herself in her deep green bathing gown.  

She found Loki seated on the balcony reading. Padding out silently, she was careful to keep her top half completely covered, but swung her legs into his lap, over his book.  It was an entirely foolish gesture, but she felt foolishly giddy at the results. 

The sudden movement and bare skin had him stock-still for mere moments before he followed the long, mark-free skin up to find a green robe and a smile Ilmr felt herself a bit unable to check. 

He released a breath of a laugh, the corners of his eyes crinkling.  “It worked.” 

She could only nod.  “It worked.” 

At that, Loki bent his legs so as to bring hers in his lap up closer to his face, and placed several kisses along her smooth skin. He glanced over her knee at her. “Are you pleased?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then we will have Stark request the rest of the procedures.”

With that, Loki lowered his legs again and shifting his book to rest on top of her legs, one hand holding his book, the other occasionally massaging one of her calves or thighs.  He was not usually so affectionate.  At least, had not been before Thanos had taken her, but she suspected his touch was for her enjoyment rather than his own. 

***** 

It would be another week until her next procedure, and Pepper Potts had demanded that Ilmr accompany her to shop. Ilmr had not spent much time around the woman and she was intrigued to. 

“So what sort of shopping did they have in Asgard?” 

The servant, Happy, had taken them to their first of what Pepper assured Ilmr was many stops.    

Ilmr found herself immediately fond of Pepper’s taste, as she had found many a worthy item at this _Barney’s_ as well.  

“Much of what you have here, I suspect: many cafes and vendors selling food and drink, many jewelers and smiths, tailors, shops selling instruments and many for the purchase of weapons or armor.” 

“That last one we have, but it’s probably more restricted than what you’re used to.” 

Ilmr gave a small smile.  “Likely.” 

“How are you feeling?  Your surgery wasn’t too long ago.” 

“Well.  I heal nearly as quickly as the Aesir do.” 

“Are all elves like that?”  Pepper looked up from selecting a dress of some sort. 

“No.  The Aesir only. Loki, with his many gifts, gave me the ability in the best way he could.” 

Ilmr watched Pepper’s features soften. “He’s really different with you, you know.” 

She gave Pepper a faint smile only. “Yes, I know.” 

***** 

It seemed working for Tony Stark had many advantages, one of which was an impressive coin purse.  Pepper Potts had managed to purchase a truly astounding number of items, which she insisted was only because she hadn’t had the chance of late to do any sort of shopping. 

Ilmr had purchased a second pair of yoga pants in all of their travels, though Pepper insisted upon calling them _shorts_ and was also vehement that she would likely never see Ilmr in them.  Ilmr had also purchased a new emerald green night shift.  The one Frigga had gifted her had been truly beautiful.  And destroyed by Thanos.  This new item was nowhere near as lovely, but it was not without its merits and given the success of the first procedure, she indulged. 

Loki was nowhere to be found upon her return to the quarters and JARVIS informed her that he had been summoned to S.H.I.E.L.D. Ilmr felt her blood run cold. Even if he were merely showing the mortals how to use the gauntlet, it was likely more use than necessary. 

From what Ilmr was able to gather from her own research, it seemed as though the use of the Tesseract by the being the humans called the Red Skull had not been sufficient to call attention from other realms. When S.H.I.E.L.D. found it and began to use it, however, it seemed Thanos’ attention was caught. Whether it was only a matter of timing Ilmr was unsure.  But the more frequently the gauntlet was used, the more likely it was to garner attention. 

Three quarters of an hour later and Loki returned in a perfectly foul mood, muttering to himself and fixing himself a glass from their bar with sharp, precise movements.  

Ilmr regarded him silently from her place on one of the couches.  

After a large gulp, Loki set the tumbler down hard sighed. “You returned earlier than Stark estimated.” 

She gave a thin smile.  “Pepper was conscious of how long she kept me given my recent procedure, though I assured her I felt well many times.” 

He looked harried, worn.  He had not looked so in a long time.  “The mortals may make things difficult for us, for some time. I have asked Stark to move up your next procedure to tomorrow.”  He held out one hand.  “And I will need your ring. This evening.” 

Ilmr remained ensconced on the couch. “What happened at S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“They wished for me to show them how to use the gauntlet. I did.  They did not anticipate that they would be unable to wield it. I reminded them that the agreement was that I would show them how to use it, not promise that they would be able to use it.  All they are able to do is keep it hidden from hostile forces as best they can.” 

“You think they will break the contract and claim they are able to because you did so.” 

Loki nodded.  “I would have your ring.” 

It did not make sense to Ilmr, if he was concerned with what S.H.I.E.L.D. might do, that he would ask for her ring. 

“I do not understand.” 

“Stark took too long to find what I requested, but he has done it. One of the saving graces of such an irksome man, at least he has the power and money to find what he needs.  No matter what it is.  I have an exceptionally skilled smith coming this evening to enhance your ring. He will need it for only a few hours.” 

Ilmr nodded.  “When he arrives, you may take it to him.”  She smiled at him, halting his likely retort that one of Stark’s servants would ferry the item.  “I will have Vidar and Fenrir with me.  I survived many a battle without such a thing, and I would not trust another with its possession.” 

“Even if it is Stark, do not let another into our quarters until I have returned.  You are well, but you are not yet yourself again.” 

Ilmr narrowed her eyes.  “For all your wit, your lies, and your silver tongue, you do manage to appear as though you really are a relative of Thor’s, at times.” 

Loki smirked, taking another long sip of his drink, and said nothing.  

“There is something else you’re not telling me.” Ilmr knew by now the subtle changes in Loki’s face when he held something back.  It was by knowing how to tell his truths that she was able to read him so plainly when he lied. 

At that, Loki smiled a wide, wolfish grin, making a circle in the air with a finger to keep their conversation private. “And you are the only one I will tell.” It was a grin that reminded her of the phrase she uttered to herself again and again at the very beginning of their courtship: her suitor –now husband- was one of the more dangerous beings in the cosmos.  Tumbler in hand, he sat himself opposite her, legs wide, elbows upon knees.  “This would be my only chance to see the gauntlet again, I knew. There are many Stones embedded within it.  One of these stones grants wishes, just as another grants life or death.” 

“You destroyed that one, the one granting life and death.” 

“No.  They cannot be destroyed.  Altered, yes. The altering of it was enough to destroy Thanos.  The tales you found told of a man in the stone that would defeat the Titan.  I was right to suspect that the altering of the stone in some way would be enough to break Thanos’ power long enough to destroy him.” 

“What did you alter this time?” 

“Nothing.  I merely wished, calling upon one of the stones to do so. I have been one of only a handful who will ever wield the stones, with or without the gauntlet. I wished that the gauntlet would become useless to the humans, so that it would remain hidden here, in this unlikely realm, for as long as possible.  I told S.H.I.E.L.D. that they were unable to use it because of their mortality. I do not think they quite believed me.” 

Ilmr could feel a small smile tug at the edges of her mouth.  “You jest.” 

He quirked his brow briefly.  “They caught the attention of Thanos once by using an object far beyond them too often.  They would do so again, I know, and this time, we are unable to leave this place. I would not wager you or our hounds against the folly of man.” 

“Dgol would take us in, I should think, if it came to it.” It seemed like another life, the war between the dwarves and the rock trolls.  

“He would accept you and our hounds. I do not think he would be so welcoming of me.”

“I have procured personal rights to the Cailean. I think he would be more lenient than you would imagine.” 

“Do you know him so well?” 

“Asgard’s aid in the war in Nidavelir was not my first meeting with Dgol.  I had met him many a time by then on business for my father.  I think he trusts my word.” 

Loki regarded Ilmr with such a peculiar look that she realized, after a moment of trying to place it, that it was genuine concern. 

“What?”  She did not want to know, not truly. 

“Surely you remember my transgressions, Ilmr. What they meant, not just to you and I, but to Asgard and Midgard, and so the rest of the Nine Realms.”

She nodded, dropping her eyes despite herself and the thrill of shame she felt at being unable to keep his gaze. “I remember.” 

“Then you know he would not welcome me to his home, grant me sanctuary.” 

“I know.”  She had barely whispered it and was unsure whether he had heard her. She did not raise her head to find out. 

He was quiet for some time, though he did not move from his place across from her.  When he spoke, she could hear the trepidation in his voice.  “Ilmr, how much do you truly remember, and how much are you unable to distinguish from your nightmares?” 

She shook her head but did not speak. 

“Ilmr.” 

“There are some mornings, even still, when I first wake that I am unable to tell if I am waking or dreaming, dead or alive, given a respite to make the torture seem that much worse or truly free from it.” 

Loki nodded, finished off the remainder of his drink in one large, swift gulp, and rose.  “I must speak to Stark about my visit to S.H.I.E.L.D.  I will return to fetch your ring.” 

Ilmr watched him go quietly before rising to make tea. 

He was not going to speak of S.H.I.E.L.D., she knew. 

*****  
***** 

When he found Stark, the man was in his workroom, fiddling with some contraption or another that Loki assumed was part and parcel to one of his many flying suits.  

“What is it exactly she wastes her time with that woman each fortnight for if it isn’t helping?” 

Stark barely glanced up from his work. “You know you’re one of the only ones who knocks.  The manners they teach you on Asgard make us look like savages.  You’re so right.” 

Loki let out a frustrated sound.  “Stark.” 

With a sigh, the Man of Iron set down one of his tools. “What do you want me to say? It’s not instant. It takes _time_. In her case, probably a lot of time. What wasn’t Janet able to bibbity-bobbity-boo this time that you’ve got your knickers in a twist over?” 

Loki narrowed his eyes.  He had learned much in the time he had been in Midgard, but he was loathe to admit he still caught only half of Stark’s banter. 

With a roll of his eyes, Stark clarified. “What didn’t she fix _immediately_ that has you all upset?” 

“Ilmr finds, at times, that she is unable to tell her nightmares from reality, and vice versa.” 

“Would _you_ want to know the difference, honestly?” 

“That is not the point.  I—“ 

“—No, that _is_ the point.  It’s called post-traumatic stress.  Her brain isn’t able to deal with that horrific shit _because it’s horrific shit_.  A lot of people do it. Hell, some people have no memory of events _at all_ if they’re traumatic enough.” 

“It is essential to her well-being that she remember. Without the knowledge, she cannot hope to protect herself.” 

Stark furrowed his brow in confusion. “What part of _she probably won’t be the same person again_ didn’t you get? What happened to her was horrific.  What happened to you sounds pretty nightmarish too.” 

“I recovered.” 

“Really?  Because I bet Ilmr wouldn’t say the same.  She wouldn’t say you’re the same person you were.” 

Loki raised his eyebrows, gritting his teeth. “You have spoken to her of this?” 

“What?  No. Jesus.  Can you take it down, like, eight notches? Seriously.  You’ll give yourself hypertension.”  Stark sighed.  “There’s nothing you can do.  There’s not much _Janet_ can do, honestly. She can walk Ilmr through what she’s thinking and feeling, but aside from that, it’s kinda up to Arwen there.” 

“When will the smith arrive?” 

“The what?”  Stark picked up another tool and went back to his machinery. 

“The smith.  You hired a smith, did you not, to alter Ilmr’s ring?” 

“Oh.  The jeweler. Yeah.  He’ll be here soon.  Did you bring it?” 

“No.  I will not relieve her of it until I have to.” 

Again Stark set aside his tools.  “Do you want to talk to Janet?  Seriously, We can just add an hour to the time she’s here.” 

Loki felt his rage building.  “And why would I speak with this woman myself?” 

“Aside from the fact that you’re crazy anyway? Dude, _you_ have post-traumatic stress.  She’ll be _fine_.  S.H.I.E.L.D. can’t get in here without me knowing about it, and the guy who kidnapped her to begin with is dead because you killed him. She’ll be fine for a few hours without The One Ring.  You are way too anxious about this shit.”

Loki gave a grim smile.  “Perhaps you would like to be my therapist, you know much, it seems.” 

“Oh _hell_ no. And I only know so much because _I’m_ a mess. I mean, I was anyway, and then _you_ brought an insane, alien army to my doorstep and I nearly died and I have a prescription for my anxiety now. So _thanks_.” 

“I neither need nor want the assistance of your therapist. Ilmr too will soon have no need for her services.” 

With a bark of laughter, Stark again returned to his work. “Soon.  Right.” 

*****

Loki awoke with a start in the dead of night to JARVIS’ voice.  

“Sir, Mr. Stark requires your presence in the garage immediately. 

Loki growled.  The reinforcing of Ilmr’s ring had gone without issue and she had seemed perfectly pleased with the result.  As he had been.  

“ _What for_ , JARVIS?” 

“A Plan Blue, sir.” 

Loki rolled out of bed and pulled on a pair of trousers. The sound of a sleepy laugh from Ilmr caught his attention and he turned to find Fenrir in his place in their bed. 

“I will return presently.” 

With that, he left. 

Thus far, it had been Pepper Potts accompanying him to the hospital.  This time, it was the middle of the night and Stark went with him.  The Man of Iron had never seen him heal before. He had seen the results, certainly, but he had never seen the act itself.  

It was several people.  An automobile accident, it seemed.  Ilmr was right to call them death traps, given the state of the mortals. One was quickly losing blood from severed veins and an almost-completely-severed leg.  Another’s face was nearly unrecognizable, between the blood and the bone that showed through the skin.  One eye was left nearly out of place.  The third person’s chest seemed concave, one arm almost entirely crushed. The last was the worst, it seemed, given that Loki could see some of his brain matter and a deep red stain behind his head.  

The Man of Iron looked queasy, and stepped away, but did not leave.  

It took almost a full hour, if not longer. All four were, as with the others, ushered into false-ICU rooms where they would pretend to convalesce for a number of days.  

Partway back to Stark’s car, Loki stopped short. For the first time since leaving the Emergency Room, Tony’s near-incessant chatter halted. 

“I heard there were some pretty amazing survival stories coming out of Saint Vincent’s.  Thought I’d drop by to see what sort of guardian angels they had on staff.” The tall, dark man in a trench coat Loki had left at S.H.I.E.L.D. earlier that day leveled his gaze at Loki. “Didn’t think I’d find the devil instead.” 

Loki afforded Fury a nod of acknowledgement. “Seeing it for yourself must make it easier to believe.” 

“Not really.” 

“Come on, Nick.”  Stark broke in.  “You have to admit, he’s saved some people that shouldn’t have made it.”

“I’m not denying that they’d’ve died. I’m saying of all your bad ideas, Stark, this has to be one of the worst.” 

Loki had come to appreciate Stark’s sense of mischief and repressed a smirk at the Man of Iron’s retort.  “And it’s not even two in the morning yet! Imagine the bad decisions I’ll make by nine.” 

Fury’s jaw worked.  “I am.  That’s why I’m not asleep right now.”  

“If you wish it, Director Fury, I will no longer make my presence felt in this establishment.”  Loki was only too happy to end this ridiculousness. 

“It’s a decent penance.  Or it would be.  How many would be left, if you were trying to make amends?” 

“Two thousand, three hundred and fifty-six.” Loki did not hesitate. 

Fury threw a look to Stark.  “It doesn’t count if he’s _keeping_ count.”  With an unfriendly grin, Fury looked back to Loki.  “Let’s take a walk.” 

“No.” 

The Director raised his eyebrows. “I’m not asking.” 

“Then speak.  I am unwavering.” 

Fury let out a breath through his nose. “Stark, unlock your car.” 

“Don’t you mean ‘Contract Employee Star—“ 

“ _Now_. _”_

The Man of Iron’s car beeped, and only once the S.H.I.E.L.D. Director was seated inside did Loki enter the vehicle. 

At a stern look from Fury, Stark spoke. “JARVIS, Blackout.” 

The car’s lights went out.  Fury spoke, then.  “My R&D team tells me they can’t use the gauntlet.  I go looking for you and Stark’s machine tells me you’re here. I think you can see why that makes me very, very nervous.” 

“If you’re suggesting I disabled the item so as to keep you at a disadvantage to myself, let me remind you that no—“ 

“That is exactly what I’m suggesting.” 

Loki cast a glare in Fury’s direction. “Do not interrupt me again. The gauntlet worked when _I_ used it.  I agreed to show you how to use it.  Never once did I mention whether or not you would be able to use it. It matters not if you like it: mortals are a weaker, lesser race of being.” 

“We kicked your ass.” 

Stark snorted at Fury’s retort. 

“With the assistance of an Asgardian and a creature that is only half-human.”  Loki sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.  He truly wished to be back in bed.  “Whether you bested me or not, does not matter.  Some beings are unable to wield such a thing.  Would you like to know why much of my history and culture has, until recently, been considered myth and legend?  Because much of what the other inhabitants of the Nine Realms take as knowledge, humans treat with suspicion.  Only in your recent history have you seen past your myopia to acknowledge that other life exists. As such, the other realms –and beyond- have seen fit to keep such power from ignorant hands.” 

“And you don’t have the ability to give us access to this power, because you’re not that good at magic?” 

Loki tsked.  “Don’t be bitter, Director.  Your lawyers missed what the God of Lies did not.  Even if I could change the circumstances surrounding the gauntlet, I would not.” 

“You’re not making this look any better for yours—“ 

“—You got the attention of Thanos because you exploited the Tesseract.  He is one of the most dangerous inhabitants of the cosmos, but he is not the only one. You bested me with the right people, the right timing, and pure luck.  Would you truly risk your people again?  No, Director, even if I were able, I would _not_ make it so that you could use the gauntlet.” 

After several moments of silence, Stark spoke. “You know, Nick, I gotta tell you, I’m kinda rooting for him on this one.” 

Fury narrowed his eyes.  “Shut up, Contract Employee Stark.”  He looked back to Loki.  “I find out _one_ Plan Blue died on your watch, I’ll assume you let him.” 

With that, Fury let himself out of the vehicle. 

***** 

Loki rose later than usual the following morning; the Man of Iron had driven around the city after Fury took his leave of them. He would not admit to it aloud, but it had been useful.  

“JARVIS told me Director Fury was looking for you last night.” 

“He found me.” 

“And?”  Her apprehension was there, though somewhat masked.  She was making progress with the therapist, it seemed. 

“And he believes me, regarding the gauntlet.” 

Several emotions flashed across her face before she spoke. She was not letting the subject go. While he found it annoying, he was also glad of it; she was more herself this way.  “That is not all.” 

“No.” 

She waited patiently. 

He sighed, seating himself across from her and took her hands.  Though he had never voiced it, never had even part of a plan, he had always been sure that they would be able to escape Midgard for another realm.  After the previous evening’s meeting and subsequent drive, which had been mostly –miraculously- quiet, Loki had come to the realization that they were likely trapped in the forsaken realm.  

“Ilmr, I’ve never given you reason to think otherwise, but I don’t believe we’ll be able to leave this realm. This _part_ of this realm, even, given my contract with S.H.I.E.L.D.” 

“Do you wish to stay?” 

“No.” 

“Do you regret the choice you made, in choosing me over Asgard?” 

“No.” 

She smiled at that, and Loki felt a sense of relief at the familiar, if faint, gleam that came to her eye. “Then we will find a way.” 

***** 

A/N:  So ends Part One!  Please drop me a review and let me know what you thought.  Favorite part?  Favorite character? Particular line or scene that made you giggle?  Let me know, I’d love to hear from you while I’m working on Part Two, which I hope to begin posting in the next month or so.  (And also a Cap fic I’m working on!)

 

 

 

 


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